


Sex Therapy

by tom_hiddles_fan_fiction



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:17:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tom_hiddles_fan_fiction/pseuds/tom_hiddles_fan_fiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kerryn (OFC) and Tom Hiddleston seek assistance with their relationship issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Session One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I have been sitting on this Tom Hiddleston fan fiction idea for awhile, but I finally had the time to sit down and write it. This will be a multi-chapter story, so I suggest following if you’d like to keep up with it.
> 
> Author’s note: Contrary to the title, this story is NOT a fluffy, smutty, love story. It deals with very sensitive issues involving PTSD and sexual assault. If either of those bother you, I suggest you do not read. Yes, there will be some fluff and some smut, but this story has more to do with emotions and the strengthening relationship between two people.

**Session One**

               The dimly lit room would give any normal person a sense of comfort and make them feel at ease, but I was not normal. To me, the room was suffocating and made my insides squirm uncomfortably. I kept trying to tell myself that it was just a room and it couldn’t cause me any harm and that was true. It wasn’t the room itself that frightened me; it was the reason why I was in it. A strong, reassuring hand came to rest upon mine, which were shaking as I clutched them together.

 

                “Easy now,” the deep, rich, and soothing voice of my husband said softly next to me. I blew out a breath and looked over at him, his crystal blue eyes penetrating my green ones. His stare was intense, almost as if he was reading my mind and I had to look away. I was already nervous enough as it was, my stiff posture clearly giving me away.

                Tom on the other hand seemed perfectly at ease; his right foot resting casually on his left knee while his left arm splayed over my shoulders against the back of the plush couch we were sitting on. If he was nervous, he didn’t give any indication, but he was good at that, being an actor and all. I wished I could see what was going on in his head, just to see what he was really feeling. I hated that I couldn’t hide my emotions, my face giving me away like an open book. Tom on the other hand could be extraordinarily angry, yet give you a genuine smile and convince you otherwise.

                “I don’t know if I can do this,” I mumbled.

                The hand that was resting over mine squeezed gently before his thumb rubbed reassuring circles over my skin. “You can,” he said. “We’re in this together.”

                The oak door in the corner of the room opened and a middle aged brunette woman in a lavender pants suit walked through the threshold.

                “Hello,” she greeted us with a warm smile as she walked closer. “I’m Dr. Lewin. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Hiddleston.”

                Once she was in front of us, she shook our hands before sitting in the chair across from us.

                “I’m Tom and this is my wife, Kerryn,” Tom introduced us.

                “Lovely to meet you in person,” she said. She reached over to the small table next to her, picking up a notepad and a pair of reading glasses which she slid on her nose. “Now, before we get started, let me tell you a little bit about myself and then it will be your turn.”

                “Okay,” Tom agreed.

                “My name is Dr. Matilda Lewin, I am originally from Ipswich and I studied social and developmental psychology at the University of Cambridge before moving to London and opening up my own practice. I specialize in couples therapy and sex therapy. On my days off I enjoy spending time with my husband and our three children and of course our new golden lab puppy, Max,” she said.

                Tom cleared his throat. “I’m Tom Hiddleston, I was born in London and raised in both London and Oxford. My parents are divorced and I have two sisters. I also went to the University of Cambridge, but attended Pembroke College and I also went to RADA. I am a professional actor and when I’m not working, I like to spend as much time as possible with this beautiful woman next to me.”

                I blushed at his last sentence and took a deep breath. “I’m Kerryn James-Hiddleston and I was born and raised in San Diego, California with my parents and two older brothers. I came to London when I was eighteen to attend the University of Westminster where I earned a degree in Marketing. I work in marketing for British Airways and I enjoy travelling the world with Tom.”

                Dr. Lewin nodded. “Now, how did you two meet?”

                “We met at a pub, actually,” Tom recalled, breaking out into a smile. “It was November of 2007 and she was at the bar, standing on her tip toes and leaning over to try and order a round of drinks. I remember watching her trying to carry three pints of beer by herself back to her two other friends.”

                “Naturally I dropped one and my friends laughed, but Tom came over to help me pick up the larger pieces of glass. Such a gentleman,” I said fondly.

                “And you two started talking?” Dr. Lewin guessed.

                “My friends and I joined the three of them and we closed the place down,” Tom said.

                “When did your relationship start?” she asked.

                “In April around her birthday. We had kept in touch and had all gone out many times after that first night. I knew from that first night that she was the one,” he responded, looking over at me.

                “What about you, Kerryn?” she asked.

                “I found him charming and attractive, but I was a little wary about starting a relationship with anyone. I knew he was an actor and that worried me, but he convinced me to give him and chance and I’m glad I did,” I replied.

                Dr. Lewin cleared her throat and looked down at her notepad. “I’ve reviewed your files sent from Dr. Porter, but can you tell me about the night of January seventh, 2005?”

                My blood ran cold and my body tensed up. Tom’s left hand, which was on the back of the couch, moved to the back of my neck where his fingers tenderly massaged the muscles. “If you reviewed the files, then you know what happened,” I responded tightly.

                She made a small note on her pad and looked back up at me. “You were sexually assaulted on your way home from your part-time job,” she said matter-of-factly.

                “Yes,” I whispered.

                “This was the only sexual contact you had ever had, correct?” she asked. I nodded, trying not to let the memories overcome me. “When you moved to London, you were living in an apartment in Soho with two males. Did anything ever happen with them?”

                “No,” I said. “They were like my brothers. They never hurt me. They protected me.”

                “Did you have any romantic relationships after the assault besides Tom?” she asked.

                “No,” I replied. “I… I couldn’t.”

                She nodded and made another note. “I know that talking about this is very difficult for you, Kerryn. I also know that you feel as if you’ve talked about it enough in the years of therapy you had after it happened, but we need to bring this up again. You’re here for sex therapy and as a specialist in that area, I’m here to assist you in your recovery of your sexual assault. You and Tom won’t be able to get past your intimacy issues if this isn’t confronted. I want to help you both.”

                “I’m better though,” I whispered. “I met Tom and I didn’t push him away. He’s helped me overcome so much with my intimacy issues.”

                “How long have you two been married?” she asked.

                “Four months,” Tom said. “We got married in July.”

                “From our conversations prior to this session, you still haven’t made love. Is that correct?” she asked.

                “Yes,” Tom replied, his voice unsteady.

                “Kerryn, how long into your relationship did you wait until you told Tom about your sexual assault?” she questioned me.

                I swallowed hard. “I told him when he first tried to kiss me so it was before the relationship really started.”

                “How did you feel, Tom?”

                “Angry,” he replied. “I was angry that someone out there had hurt her like that and she was suffering because of it. I also felt helpless and scared because I had never been in that situation before. I’d never been with someone who had experienced that kind of violence and I didn’t know how to act or what was okay for me to do. I let her lead and set the pace of our intimacy through the relationship because I never wanted to rush her.”

                “Had the prospect of making love ever come up?” she inquired.

                “Many times,” he said. “We had made progress with our physical affection towards each other over the years and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, so I proposed that we wait until we were married to take the last step.”

                “Had you been with women before you met Kerryn?”

                He nodded. “Yes. My first was when I was sixteen. I’d been with nine women before I met Kerryn.”

                “Was that hard for you to go from sexually active to celibate?” she asked.

                “I mean, it was, but I love her and sometimes you have to make sacrifices to be with the person you love. Sex isn’t the most important part of a relationship and I’m glad that we have truly gotten to know each other without that over the years. It’s just, we’re married now and while I want her to be comfortable, I also want to show my wife how much I love her, not just tell her,” he admitted.

                “How does that make you feel, Kerryn?” she asked, scribbling away on her notepad.

                “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I honestly thought it would be okay once we got married. I thought that I could go through with it, but it’s been a constant struggle to let go. I want the same things he does. I want us to be able to show each other physically how much we love each other, but I just… I can’t,” I finished pitifully, my eyes filling with tears.

                Dr. Lewin put her notepad down and leaned forward. “You  _can_ ,” she said with conviction. “I’m going to help you realize that you can let go and you can be intimate with your husband without having to be afraid.”

                “I love you,” Tom whispered to me. “You know I would never hurt you.”

                “I know,” I said back with a pained expression on my face. “It’s so much more complicated than that.”

                “And that is why you’re here and that is what we’re going to work out,” Dr. Lewin said. “Now, from your files, it says that you have suffered from panic attacks, severe anxiety, night terrors, and haphephobia.”

                “Not as bad as I used to,” I said. “I’ve mostly gotten over my haphephobia, and the panic attacks don’t come on that often anymore.”

                She nodded. “What happened the first night of your honeymoon?”

                My eyes widened and I looked over at Tom. “Did you…” I couldn’t finish the question.

                “When I called her to make the appointment, she asked some questions as to why I think we needed her help so I told her. Are you very angry?” he asked, grimacing.

                I slumped my shoulders. “No,” I admitted. “I just didn’t want to have to think about it again.”

                “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s important though.”

                I turned back to Dr. Lewin who was looking at me expectantly. “I slept in the bathroom,” I told her, my voice shaking.

                “Why?” she asked.

                I took a deep breath. “I panicked, more severe than I ever did before. Everything started out fine. We were kissing and taking things slow; doing the things we had already done.”

                “What do you mean by that? Touching each other? Oral sex?”

                I nodded. “Both. Over the years we had taken baby steps to get to where we were. It felt amazing and I thought that everything would be okay, that we’d be able to finally do this and it would be perfect. I wasn’t afraid, I just wanted him. I wanted all of him.”

                “So what changed?” she asked.

                “We were in the bed and he was on top of me and he asked me if I was ready and I said yes and then…” I trailed off.

                “The moment I tried to push into her, her eyes just glazed over and she started shoving me away and screaming. I didn’t know what had happened. One minute we were fine and the next, she had thrown me off of her and had locked herself in the bathroom,” Tom finished for me.

                “Do you remember that, Kerryn?” she asked.

                I shook my head. “Not really. I remember him on top of me and I remember being in the bathroom crying and unable to move, but it’s as if my memory blocked it out.”

                “You couldn’t get to her, is that right?” she turned to Tom.

                Tom’s bottom lip trembled and he bit it between his teeth before answering. “No,” he murmured. “I tried. The door was locked and I tried so hard to get her to hear me and get her to open the door, but it’s as if she was a million miles away and didn’t even know I was there. I’d never felt so helpless in my life.”

                Dr. Lewin nodded. “Well, it’s clear to me that what we’re dealing with here is PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. We know why you have it, we just now need to figure out what the actual trigger is. There was a lot going on that night so it could have been a number of things. The good thing is we can work past this.”

                “What do you recommend?” Tom asked.

                “Well let’s start out with fifteen sessions, one each week,” she suggested.

                “You think this is going to take fifteen weeks? That long?” I asked.

                “I don’t know how long this will take. It may take longer, it may even only take a few weeks, but let’s just start with fifteen to be on the safe side,” she said. “Now, I’m going to give you two some exercises to do and I want you to be diligent about them. I can’t help you unless you both are ready to work with me.”

                “We are,” Tom and I said at the same time.

                “Good. This first exercise will have to do with communication. I want you to talk to each other about your expectations for your marriage and for your sex life. Tell each other how you feel and don’t hold back for fear of hurting the others feelings. Explain why you have these expectations and how you hope to live up to them,” she said and Tom and I both nodded. “This isn’t going to be easy. The coming weeks you’re going to face a lot of challenges, but you will come out on the other side and it will strengthen your relationship. Just remember to always be honest with me and each other.”

                  “We will,” Tom said.

                  “Okay. Until next week then. It was a pleasure to meet you both and I look forward to working with you,” Dr. Lewin said, standing up and holding her hand out. Tom and I followed suit and said our goodbyes before heading back through the reception area and onto the wet, chilly, London street.

                  “See, that wasn’t so horrible,” Tom said, his arm draped around my shoulder as we walked towards the car.

                  “No, but it wasn’t easy,” I replied, crossing my arms to try and keep warm.

                  “It’s not going to be, but you heard what she said, love. We’ll get through it and our relationship will be stronger,” he assured me.

                  We made it to our shiny, black, Mercedes and Tom opened the passenger side door for me before walking around to get in on the driver’s side. He put the key into the ignition and the car roared to life. The way home was silent between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable and he held my hand the entire way. Once back at our Belgravia flat, Tom parked and we headed upstairs, both of us drained from our long day and the session.

                  “Let’s get ready for bed,” he whispered, pulling me into his arms after our jackets were removed.

                  “Okay,” I agreed.

                  When our nighttime rituals were complete, we climbed into our king-sized bed, cuddling in the middle and leaving the two lamps on that were on our nightstands. “Feels so good to lay with you,” he said, kissing me softly.

                  I broke away from him and rested my forehead on his shoulder so he couldn’t see my face. “If we were a normal married couple, we wouldn’t be just laying here.”

                  “We are a normal married couple, Kerr. And it doesn’t have to be sexual every time spouses are in bed together,” he told me.

                  I sighed and shook my head. “But it would at least be an option.”

                  “Hey,” he said, pulling back so he could look at me. “It is an option for us, just not right now. We’re supposed to talk about our expectations, right? Well, I expect you not to put yourself down for something you can’t control.”

                  “I just don’t understand how someone like you could love someone like me,” I admitted.

                  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, clearly offended.

                  “You’re a famous actor. You have girls all over the world willing to sleep with you at the drop of a hat. Hell, you could have a different one every night for the rest of your life and never repeat. Yet here you are, married to the one person who can’t give you that,” I explained.

                  “I don’t want them,” he spat. “I love you. I married you. Why do you still question it after all this time? Everyone has insecurities, Kerryn. Don’t let our marriage be one for you. You have nothing to worry about. Do you think I would still be here if all that mattered to me was sex? Yes, you know what, it does matter, but it’s not the most important thing.”

                  I winced at his biting tone and tried not to let it upset me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I love you so much and the last thing I want to do is lose you. I’m trying. I’m trying to be different.”

                  “I don’t want you to be different. I just want you to be you. I love you, why can’t you see what I see and love yourself? There’s another expectation of mine. I expect you to love yourself,” he said.

                  I sat there letting his words wash over me for a minute before speaking. “I expect you to bring me back to reality when my brain takes me on one of my crazy tangents like just now.”

                  Tom’s eyes softened and he pulled me to his chest. “I will,” he promised. “I’m sorry I was cross, it just frustrates me that even after all this time you can’t see what I see when I look at you.”

                  “I try to,” I said. “I really do. I’m just being a normal woman, I guess.”

                  His chuckle vibrated in his chest and he kissed the top of my head. “As long as you try. Now, any other expectations you have?”

                  I paused for a moment before saying, “I expect you to be an amazing father to our children.”

                  Tom’s arms tightened around me and I chanced a glance up at him. He held my gaze and I could see the deep emotion in his eyes. “I promise,” he whispered.

                  “I’m going to get over whatever is going on with me, this PTSD thing. We’re going to be able to make love whenever we want and have children just like everyone else,” I said with conviction. “I just expect you to be there by my side during the good and the bad of this journey.”

                  “For better or for worse, love. Remember?” he asked, lifting his left hand to show me the platinum wedding band adorned on his ring finger. “I made that vow at the altar and I will keep it until death due us part.”

                  “Good. I’m glad I won’t be getting rid of you that easily,” I joked.

                  Tom laughed and kissed me soundly. “Oh, darling, you’re never getting rid of me, no matter what.”


	2. Session Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contrary to the title, this story is NOT a fluffy, smutty, love story. It deals with very sensitive issues involving PTSD and sexual assault. If either of those bother you, I suggest you do not read. Yes, there will be some fluff and some smut, but this story has more to do with emotions and the strengthening relationship between two people.
> 
> This chapters delves into a scene of sexual assault. It is not graphic, but be warned.

**Session Two**

            “Last week I asked you to create a list of expectations for your marriage and your sex life. So, why don’t you tell me what you both came up with?” Dr. Lewin asked after greeting us.

            “I expect her to stop putting herself down for things she can’t control, I expect her to love herself the way I do, I expect her to communicate her feelings and not shut me out,” Tom replied.

            “That last expectation goes for both of us,” I interjected. “I also expect him to bring me back to reality if I go on a tangent where I’m putting myself down and I expect him to be an amazing father to our future children.”

            “Good,” Dr. Lewin said. “And what about the expectations for your sex life?”

            Tom and I both stayed silent for a minute before he spoke up. “That one we had a hard time with.”

            “Why?” she asked, grabbing her pen and her notepad from beside her.

            “Well, we’ve never had sex before, so it’s hard for us to say what we expect,” he replied.

            “I can understand that. Well, why don’t we work on it now?” she suggested. “Tom, you’ve been with other women before so you can provide some insight to Kerryn about what pleases you.”

            “Well,” he started. “I like variety.”

            “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

            “I like to change the position a few times during a session,” he explained, sounding a bit uncomfortable.

            “All right. What else?”

            “I don’t want to be the one to always initiate it. I want her to want it just as much as I do and not be afraid to just pounce when she wants it. I also don’t want it to be repetitive. I don’t want it to always be in bed before we go to sleep. I want excitement and spontaneity. It can be waking each other up in the middle of the night or when we wake up in the morning or a quickie before we have to be somewhere,” he said.

            I bit the skin around my thumb as I tried to calm my racing heart. We hadn’t even had sex once yet and my stomach was in knots thinking about all the things he had said. _Can I do all of those things for him?_

            “Kerryn, you’re very quiet. Can you tell us what you’re thinking?” Dr. Lewin asked me.

            I pulled my hand away from my mouth and took a deep breath. “I guess I’m just overwhelmed,” I admitted.

            “I’m sorry,” Tom murmured, squeezing my hand that had been in his since we sat down.

            I shook my head and looked over at him. “No. I don’t want you to apologize. I need to know these things. I’m just trying to process it all. I want to please you.”

            “This isn’t just about pleasing me, though,” he said. “I want to please you as well. This works both ways. I only want to make love with you if you want it too.”

            His last sentence brought tears to my eyes and I turned my head away, pressing my hand against my mouth to stifle the sob that had built up in my chest.

            “Kerryn,” Dr. Lewin said. “Take a deep breath.”

            I tried to, but all that came out was another sob and Tom reached for me, but I shrugged him away.

            “Sweetheart,” he said, pain evident in his voice.

            “You can show affection in this office,” Dr. Lewin told me. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

            I shook my head. “It’s not that,” I choked out.

            “Then what is it?”

            I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself before turning back to him. “I’m sorry,” I said with a sniffle. “I don’t mean to cry.”

            “Why are you?” Tom asked his brow furrowed with concern.

            “What you said struck a chord with me. The only time I’d ever been with someone was when I didn’t want it. He didn’t ask me if I wanted it, he just took it and treated me as if I was just an object. He didn’t care that he was hurting me. He just saw me and took what he wanted with no regard for me,” I cried.

            “Kerr,” Tom whispered.

            “Let her get this out,” Dr. Lewin said. “Keep talking, Kerryn. I know it’s hard, but it will help tremendously.”

            Even after speaking about my assault in the two years of therapy I had, it was still extremely difficult. Tom knew most of what had happened, but there were still the harsher details that I had left out because I had been too afraid to tell him.

            “I didn’t even know him. I had been working at the frozen yogurt place late that night until closing. He had been in earlier, but I didn’t think anything of him. I was alone in the parking lot when he came up from behind me and held a knife to my throat. I had never been so terrified in my life. He stuffed a handkerchief in my mouth so no one would hear me scream and then he unlocked my car and threw me in the backseat. I was defenseless. I couldn’t move or he would have killed me. I just lay there and cried while he ripped my clothes off and touched me with his disgusting hands. The pain…” I trailed off, unable to breathe at the memory as the tears poured down my face.

            I was now sitting on the opposite side of the couch, all contact from Tom cut off. I wouldn’t let him near me. “It was excruciating. I was only seventeen and had never been intimate with anyone. He was relentless and kept thriving in my pain. He started to hit me to hurt me even more and when that stopped satisfying him, he started using his knife, slicing into my skin and talking about how he enjoyed watching my blood spill; how he got off on the thought of the scars being a permanent reminder to me that he had been there.”

            Tom was now slumped over, his face in his hands hiding his emotions from me. Dr. Lewin had put down her pen and paper and was listening intently to me.

            “When he was done, he just left me there. I couldn’t move and I honestly thought I was going to die, but I was ready to welcome it. I didn’t want to live anymore after what had just happened. I lay there for over an hour until my brothers had come looking for me. I had never come home or answered my cell phone so my family was worried. I don’t remember much after I was loaded into the ambulance. They caught the guy who did it on surveillance footage and he is now rotting away behind bars at the RJD Correctional Facility in San Diego,” I finished, hiccupping harshly as I attempted to stop crying.

            Dr. Lewin spoke after a few minutes of silence. “Tom?” she asked softly. For the first time since my confession, I looked over at my husband he was still in the slumped over position, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. The only movement from him was his shaking shoulders as he cried.

            After a moment, he lifted his head up and I saw that his eyes were bloodshot and swimming with tears that were falling down his cheeks in rivers. The look of pure agony on his face made my heart hurt and my stomach churn.

            Tom wiped his hands over his face to clear the tear tracks and took a deep breath before looking over at me. “Why didn’t you tell me all of that?” he asked, sounding deeply hurt.

            “You knew about her sexual assault,” Dr. Lewin said, sounding confused.

            He shook his head. “I did, but she never told me exactly what he did to her. She told me she was attacked leaving work, but never the details. She didn’t tell me how sick and twisted he was towards her or how he left her there and how she wanted to die!” he cried.

            Guilt clawed at my insides and I curled into myself, holding my knees to my chest. “Kerryn, why didn’t you tell Tom everything?” Dr. Lewin asked.

            “Because I didn’t want this,” I answered. “I didn’t want to hear the disgust in his voice or see it in his face.”

            “Kerryn,” he said, shaking his head and reaching for me, but I flinched away and he retracted.

            “Why won’t you let him touch you?” she asked me.

            I shook my head, sniffling harshly as I cried. “Because I don’t deserve it! I’m repulsive. I’m unworthy. I disgust him.”

            “Stop it!” Tom exclaimed. “Stop saying that you disgust me!”

            “Tom,” Dr. Lewin calmly interrupted. “I understand that you’re extremely upset at what she’s saying, but yelling at her and telling her to stop is not going to rectify the situation.”

            “I don’t know what to do,” he said pitifully. “Kerr, please, sweetheart. Let me hold you.” I shook my head, too ashamed to accept his touch. “Then will you at least look at me?”

            Slowly, I turned towards him, trying to steel myself against whatever emotions he was feeling towards me, but his eyes were pleading.

            “I love you,” he said with conviction. “I love you more than anything. I could never be disgusted with you. Remember how we talked about our expectations of each other? I expected you to stop putting yourself down and you expected me to bring you back down when you’re doing it. Well, I’m going to bring you back down. What happened wasn’t your fault and the only person I am repulsed by is the sad excuse for a man that did this to you.”

            “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to hide anything from you about it, I just didn’t think it would help if I told you all the horrible details.

            “It does help though, Kerryn. We’ve made a lot of progress tonight because you finally told Tom everything. You faced it head on and by being honest with him, strengthened your relationship in the process,” Dr. Lewin said. “We just need to work on your feelings of self worth. Tom asked if he could hold you and you refused, saying that you didn’t deserve it and that you were unworthy. Why?”

            I shrugged, finally starting to calm down. “When I think about or talk about the details of that night, I feel just as dirty and damaged as I did then. I don’t want Tom to touch that. He’s too good for that.”

            Tom looked at me incredulously. “You’re not dirty, Kerr,” he said.

            “Tom,” Dr. Lewin cut him off. “It’s very common for those in her position to feel that way. A lot of victims never feel truly ‘clean’ again. That being said, for this coming week, I have an assignment for you. We made a breakthrough tonight, but as I said before, your self worth needs a bit of work.”

            “What do you need us to do?” Tom asked.

            “Take a shower together,” she said simply.

            “I don’t understand,” I said.

            “You said that you felt dirty and damaged when thinking about what happened the night of your assault. What better way to wash that away than a shower? Metaphorically speaking, anyway. This isn’t meant to be sexual, this is meant to be healing. Think of it as the water is washing away your feelings of unworthiness. Let Tom comfort you instead of pushing him away,” she explained.

            “Okay,” Tom agreed.

            “Do this every night for the next week. Let it wash away those feelings little by little,” she said. “This is probably not going to be the only breakdowns in my office, but when they happen again, I want you to accept each others’ comfort. Unfortunately, our time is up for this session, but I’m very pleased with how much you’re opening up to each other.”

            “Thank you,” I said. “We’re trying.”

            “And remember, while this is a unique situation, I want you both to remember to have fun with each other. Smile and make each other laugh. Play around. Sex is supposed to be fun as well as the rest of your marriage,” she reminded us.

            “We will. Thank you,” Tom said.

            We left the office and walked back to the car in silence not touching each other. It had been an extremely intense session and we were both feeling drained from it. On the drive home, Tom looked as if he were going to hold my hand a few times, but would change his mind last minute. It broke my heart that he was so unsure about touching me now.

            When we got inside, Tom went to get ready for bed when I stopped him. “I don’t want us to go to bed like this,” I admitted.

            “I don’t either,” he mumbled, sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

            “I think we should do our assignment and take a shower,” I proposed.

            Tom looked up at me. “Are you sure?”

            I nodded, taking his hand and leading him into our large master bathroom. We had seen each other naked many times, but I was still very self-conscious about the scars that patterned my skin from the knife. There were quite a few large ones and once I was undressed, I crossed my arms over my chest to try and hide them as I usually did.

            Tom started the water and led me into the large, tiled, stall once the water was warm enough. After he had wet himself under the spray, he switched spots with me so I could let the warm water run over me in soothing rivulets. The air was tense and I hated it. It was rarely like this between us, but this was definitely the worst it had been.

            “I can’t stand this,” I admitted, looking up at him.

            “Me neither,” he replied, not speaking any further.

            I sighed and slouched my shoulders. “Will you hold me?” I asked in a small voice.

            The smile he gave me made my heart melt. “I thought you’d never ask.”

            His arms immediately went around my small frame and pulled me close. Tom was 6’2” and I was 5’4”, putting me at the perfect height so that my head rested right where his heart was. My arms looped around his waist and I relished the feeling of his bare skin against mine.

            “Are we going to be okay?” I asked timidly.

            “Of course we are,” he answered softly. “I love you, Kerryn. I’m never going to stop fighting for you.”

            “I love you, too and I won’t stop fighting for you, either,” I promised.

            Tom leaned down and captured my lips in a passionate kiss, gently massaging his tongue against mine. His kisses always made me forget my troubles and this one was no exception. We stayed there, kissing and holding each other until the water ran cold and we decided to get into bed.

            “Do you feel that the shower helped?” Tom asked as we laid in the dark, cuddled in the center of the bed.

            I smiled softly, lightly running my fingers up and down his forearm. “It did and I think it will help a little more every night.”

            “I just want you to feel worthy of me, love, because you are. It hurts when you don’t want me to console you when it’s all I want to do. It doesn’t make you weak to need me,” he said.

            I sighed, lifting my hands up and rubbing the heels of my palms over my eyes. “It’s just difficult for me to let go. I want to be strong just once.”

            “But you are strong,” he said with conviction. “You survived. You’re living your life and you didn’t let what happened to you stop you. Of course you’re going to have set backs, but you’re the strongest person I know.”

            His statement caused a lump in my throat and I swallowed it back, not wanting to cry anymore. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I know this isn’t easy for you, having to deal with my issues, but I’m glad I have you by my side.”

            “There’s no one else I’d rather be with,” he said. “Only you.”


	3. Session Three - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support on this story! It means a lot to me! No trigger warnings for this chapter. Happy reading!

**Session Three – Part One**

                “Kerryn, what were your thoughts on the exercise I gave you both for last week? Was it beneficial?” Dr. Lewin asked.

                “At first I was a little wary of it,” I told her honestly. “I didn’t see how that would help with my feelings of self-worth, but it did. It made us closer physically and emotionally. We’re both so busy with work that it helps us connect at the end of the day and wind down.”

                “What about you, Tom? What are your thoughts on the exercise?” Dr. Lewin asked him.

                “It definitely gave us a new level of closeness,” he agreed.

                “You seem to want to say something else,” Dr. Lewin said. I looked over at my husband and saw a look of hesitation on his face.

                “It was just difficult,” he admitted.

                “How so?” she asked.

                “Kerryn is just very insecure about her body. I feel like I’m doing something forbidden every time I try to look at her when she’s naked,” he said.

                I couldn’t suppress the hurt I felt at his words and I shifted uncomfortably, trying to move away, but Tom wouldn’t let me, keeping his arm firmly around me.

                “Don’t,” he said softly, turning his head towards me. “Don’t move away. We promised that we weren’t going to push each other away.”

                “Kerryn?” Dr. Lewin inquired towards me.

                I sighed. “I know that I have a problem with him seeing me naked. I’m uncomfortable seeing myself naked. I don’t like feeling so exposed.”

                “What about your body do you dislike?” she asked.

                “My scars,” I replied, looking down at my hands. “I have so many from that night and they’re a constant reminder of it. I don’t like Tom seeing them.”

                “Why?”

                “They’re grotesque and it’s hard for me to let him see that I’m mutilated. I’m ashamed that I have to carry them for the rest of my life,” I confessed.

                “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Tom said with conviction. “Seeing them doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I love you no matter what.”

                “Has her insecurity always been there?” Dr. Lewin asked him.

                “Yes,” he said. “Especially when we started getting more physical with our relationship. Everything we did that we were naked for was usually in the dark and when it wasn’t, she would cross her arms or press herself against me so I wouldn’t see all of her.”

                “It’s just hard for me to let him see the physical evidence of what was done to me,” I added.

                “I’ve seen it,” he said. “Even when you try to cover up I see it. I don’t know what you see when you look at yourself, but what I notice the least are the scars. They’re not as bad as you think they are. You aren’t ‘mutilated’. The circumstance that you got them under was horrible, but they are a part of you now and they’re beautiful because you’re beautiful.”

                I shook my head to disagree, but Dr. Lewin held her hand up to stop me. “People see their flaws more pronounced than how other people see them. It’s like when you get a large pimple on your face an all day when people look at you, you think all they see is this giant pimple because that’s all you can see when you look at yourself, but in fact, most people don’t even notice it,” she said.

                “It’s true,” Tom said. “When I see you naked, the last thing I am looking at are a few scars, trust me. I get distracted by other things,” he said, smirking at me mischievously.

                I blushed deep red and hid my face in his shoulder. “Stop it,” I hissed.

                “There is no need to be embarrassed,” Dr. Lewin said. “This office is not exactly the place for complete modesty. I’ve heard and seen much worse from others, believe me.”

                 “I think you have a beautiful body,” Tom said to me.

                “See? Tom likes your body, Kerryn. So, why do you still hide it?” she asked me.

                “I… I think it’s more to do with feeling vulnerable. Just seeing him scrutinize every inch of me with his eyes. I don’t like the way it makes me feel,” I whispered.

                “When I look at you like that, it’s because I think you’re sexy,” he told me.

                “I don’t feel sexy,” I mumbled.

                “How can you expect to have sex when you don’t even feel sexy?” Dr. Lewin asked. “I know it’s difficult especially with your past. Your perception of sex is that it’s terrifying. What I want us to do is get to the bottom of that fear and squash it. You’re working on your feeling of self-worth and accepting comfort, now I want you to work on how you perceive your body and how to feel sexy.”

                “How do I do that?” I asked doubtfully.

                “I have two exercises for you. One is I want you two to go lingerie shopping together. Pick something out for yourself and have Tom pick something out for you as well. Just doing the shopping together can be highly erotic. Then I want you to wear what you buy first. Look at yourself in the mirror and write down what you like and what you don’t like about what you see. Same for the lingerie that Tom buys you,” she said.

                “I think I can do that,” I said, gnawing my teeth at my bottom lip.

                “I want you to show Tom both outfits as well,” she added. My eyes widened and she held her hand up. “Tom, I want you to write down all the things that you love that you’re seeing. Do not show each other what you’re writing and we’ll read them out at our next session and talk about the similarities and differences.”

                “What’s the next exercise?” I asked nervously.

                “After the lingerie exercise, I want you to blindfold yourself and then let Tom see you naked without covering yourself up. I know it sounds scary, but you said that feel vulnerable when you see him looking at you. With the blindfold, you don’t have to see his eyes,” she explained.

                I took a deep breath, attempting to make the panic rising up within me subside. “I’ll try,” I offered and Tom squeezed my hand.

                “We don’t have to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with,” he assured me.

                  “He’s right, you don’t have to do anything that will make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, we need to push your boundaries or you won’t make any progress. You have to go beyond your comfort levels sometimes and challenge yourself; otherwise you’ll just be stuck right where you are. You both came to me to get help with moving forward in your physical relationship. I wouldn’t have you do these exercises unless I thought they were vital for you to move on,” Dr. Lewin told us. “Of course in the end it’s your choice, but if you want to get past this, you’re going to have to make changes.”

                  “You’re right. It’s just scary,” I said.

                  “I know it is. Trying new things can be terrifying, especially when they concern your body, but Tom is your husband. He is the one person that you should fully trust with your body other than yourself. If there is no trust there, then what does that say about your marriage?” she countered.

                  Tom and I sat there in silence as we let her question roll over us. _She’s right. Tom should be the one person that I should trust with my body. Then why is it so difficult?_ The session concluded and Tom and I left, both of us obviously thinking about what she had said.

                  “You can blindfold me,” I blurted out halfway through the car ride home.

                  “What?” he asked, almost steering the car off the road at my sudden outburst.

                  “She’s right. I have to push my comfort levels if we want to have a normal sex life and not letting you see me is holding us back. So let’s jump in head first with the lingerie and the blindfolding,” I said.

                  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want you to do something just because you feel pressured.”

                  “I’m sure,” I replied. “Can you get away from rehearsal for a few hours tomorrow? We can go to the Agent Provocateur by our flat.”

                  “Yeah,” he said, his voice cracking before he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I can get away. Can you?”

                  I smiled. “The beauty of working from home full-time is I can get away whenever I want.”

                  “Okay. I’ll call them in the morning,” he said.

                  “What do you mean call them? We don’t have to make an appointment,” I told him.

                  “No, but I can get us the store to ourselves. The last thing I want is a nosy customer selling a story to a tabloid. Plus, I think we’ll both feel more at ease picking things out,” he replied.

                  “I guess that’s true,” I agreed.

                  The next day, Tom and I met at the luxury lingerie shop, Agent Provocateur on Pont Street during our lunch breaks. He had called ahead to see if we could have a private shopping experience and they happily obliged us, locking the front door behind us so we could have the place to ourselves. The walls inside were pink and filled from floor to ceiling with lacy, frilly, and barely there lingerie.

                  “Will you be needing any help this afternoon? Do you want me to take your measurements so you can be sure you’re buying the right size?” a sales associate asked us.

                  “Um, sure,” I said, pulling my jacket off so she could take my measurements with the tape measure she had in her hands.

                  “Okay, for sizes on the nightwear, you’d fit perfectly into a three. For bras, you’re a 32 C and for knickers a size two should do. Would you like assistance in picking anything out?” she asked.

                  “No thank you,” Tom said politely.

                  “All right. Well, my name is Grace so you can just give me a shout if you need anything,” she replied.

                  “Thank you,” I nodded. Grace left us in the middle of the store and I looked around, biting my lips at all the racy garments surrounding us.

                  “So, should we split up?” Tom asked.

                  “Erm, sure. I guess that would be best,” I agreed.

                  He smiled and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “Happy hunting,” he whispered before walking away from me.

                  “Right,” I whispered to myself. “Where are all the modest night dresses?”

                  I took a stroll around the store, browsing through the racks and hoping that Tom wouldn’t pick some of the scarier pieces I’d come across. I knew he wouldn’t pick anything too crazy, but I also knew it would be a lot more revealing than what I would pick out. After fifteen minutes of rifling through racks upon racks, I finally came across some not so terrifying camisoles and slips. I’d decided to go with a short black slip with pink lace trimming. It was short, but it would cover a decent amount of leg while still being sexy.

                  “Done?” Tom’s voice came from behind me, making me jump.

                  “Jeez, you scared the crap out of me!” I exclaimed, holding my hand to my heart and turned to face him. “I just finished.”

                  “Me too,” he said, holding his hands behind his back.

                  “Well, do I get to see what you picked out?” I asked.

                  “Later,” he replied.

                  “I’m the one that has to wear it, though!” I argued, trying to peek behind his back, but he moved away.

                  “And you’ll see it when you have to put it on,” he countered. “And I can’t wait to see you in that,” he motioned to the slip in my hand.

                  “No fair,” I pouted. Tom reached one hand forward and took the hanger from me.

“Now you wait here while I pay for these,” he said, heading towards the register, which was out of my line of vision. Five minutes later he was back with two large light pink bags in tow that I took from him.

“I don’t think you want to bring these back to the theater,” I said. “Your cast mates might think you’re a cross dresser.”

“Ha, ha,” he deadpanned, giving me a tap on my behind. “No peaking when you get home now.”

“I’ll do my best,” I promised. Tom and I left the shop and as soon as the door shut behind us, I heard the all too familiar clicking sound coming from my right.

“I think we’re being photographed,” I said, my nostrils flaring as I turned in the direction of the noise. Sure enough there were two paparazzi with their camera lenses pointed right at us.

“Shit,” Tom hissed, taking my hand and leading me in the opposite direction. They followed us all the way back to our flat, calling out Tom’s name and asking what was in the shopping bags. We of course ignored them, but knew the pictures would be splashed all over the Internet and trashy magazines within hours for the world to see. Once we were safely inside our flat Tom slammed the door shut in frustration.

“I hate those filthy bastard,” he growled. “Always interfering in our private life, snooping around for any story they can get.”

“I hate them too, but it could be worse,” I said.

“Ugh, now I don’t even want to go back to rehearsal,” he groaned.

“Go,” I encouraged. “Tonight you can see me in that little black slip.”

He noticeably perked up after that and headed back to the theater while I returned to my in home office to finish up on my work for the day. By the time Tom had come home and we had eaten dinner, we were both exhausted, but I could tell he was excited to see what I had picked out for myself.

                  “Don’t take too long now,” he murmured, planting steamy kisses on my neck as I grabbed the bag with the slip in it.

                  “I’ll be out after I make my list,” I promised, waving the notepad and pen in his face. I went into the master bathroom and locked the door behind me, quickly undressing and pulling on the soft, black, slip. The silk felt wonderful against my skin and I turned to look at myself in the mirror.

                  _Ugh my thighs. They’re way too thick._ I grabbed the notepad and pen, writing down every flaw that I saw in myself down to how much I hated that my collarbones poked out too much. _Okay, I have to write something positive. What do I like? My eyes, I guess._ My list of positives were short, consisting of how I liked my eyes, my hair, and how toned my arms and calves looked.

                  I slid the notepad into the shopping bag before taking a deep breath and heading back into the bedroom before I lost my nerve. Tom was on the bed in his pajamas, doodling along the edges of his own notepad. He looked up as I walked in and the pen fell out of his hand.

                  “Bloody hell,” he whispered.

                  Tom stared for what felt like hours as I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, my fingers pulling at the bottom of the slip to try and make it longer. “Well?” I asked eventually. Tom shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts before he cleared his throat.

                  “Jesus Christ, Kerr. You look incredible,” he said, swallowing hard.

                  “Don’t tell me,” I shook my head while grimacing. “Write it down.”

                  Tom fumbled picking up the pen he had dropped on the bed before scribbling on the notepad. “Could you um, turn around?” he asked hopefully after about five minutes of writing.

                  “Oh. Sure,” I said, my cheeks heating up as I turned around for him. I heard him flip the page and start writing again as I stood their on display. _What is he writing, a novel? There’s no way he likes that much of what he’s seeing!_

                  “Okay,” he said after a few more minutes. “Done.”

                  I turned around and saw him put the notepad in his nightstand. “I’ll go get ready for bed,” I said, heading towards the closet to grab my pajamas.

                  “Kerr, wait,” he said and I stopped. “Would you mind sleeping in that tonight? If it’s not comfortable enough to sleep in, then you don’t have to, but I just love it on you.”

                  My face turned red once again and I bit my lip. “I guess I could. It’s soft and it’s not restricting.”

                  Tom looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he whipped the covers back and patted my side of the bed. I walked over and climbed in next to him, turning off my bedside lamp in the process. Tom did the same and soon the only light was coming in was the moonlight through the window. I was on my back and Tom was on his side, propped up on his elbow, his eyes still raking over my form in the mostly dark room.

                  “Do you really like it?” I asked quietly.

                  “I thought you wanted me to write that answer down,” he teased.

                  “Just a yes or no,” I said.

                  “I’ll do you one better,” he murmured and pressed his erection into the side of my hip. I gasped at how hard he was, feeling him throb even with his pajama pants and my slip between us.

                  “Really?” I asked.

                  “Don’t sound so surprised,” he said. “I told you, I love your body and when you show it off like this, I love it even more. I’m _always_ hard for you, Kerr.”

                  His stare was penetrating and intense and I shivered, feeling like he was looking right into my thoughts. “Always?” I squeaked.

                  Tom leaned his head down until we were inches apart, his nose against mine. “Always,” he confirmed, pressing his lips against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he grasped my waist, pulling me close. We made out like teenagers for almost an hour, never pushing to go any further, just enjoying the sensation of our lips and tongues tangling together in a sensual dance that most people took for granted.

                  Tom and I had always been passionate kissers and it was one of my favorite activities to do with him. It was so intimate and it made me feel so alive. When we were officially out of breath and our lips were swollen and sore, Tom pressed one more kiss to my forehead before pulling back, both of us on our sides with our faces close together.

                  “That was perfect,” I whispered, trying to regain my breath and slow my heart rate.

                  “You’re perfect,” he said back.

                  “Hardly,” I disagreed, rolling my eyes. “Nobody’s perfect.”

                  “Well you’re perfect for me,” he said. “I love you.”

                  “I love you, too,” I replied, smiling softly.

                  “I have a quick question. Are you wearing any knickers under that slip?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

                  I laughed and poked his shoulder with my pointer finger. “Get your mind out of the gutter, perv,” I said. “I have black briefs on.”

                  “Damn,” he said. “Maybe next time you wear this you can forego them.”

                  “In your dreams, Hiddleston,” I teased, sticking my tongue out at him.

                  “Oh it will be a reality,” he promised. “Now, my love, let’s get some sleep. I have a feeling we’re going to have quite the night with my choice of lingerie tomorrow.”

[Kerryn's Lingerie](http://www.agentprovocateur.com/nightwear/view-all/info/novah-slip~black--pink)


	4. Session Three - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind words and thoughts! They mean a lot to me and I'm glad you're enjoying the story!
> 
> This chapter contains smut. It is not graphic, but be aware!

**Session Three – Part Two**

                “ _Avengers_  actor, Tom Hiddleston, and wife Kerryn James were spotted leaving the posh lingerie shop, Agent Provocateur, in Knightsbridge on Wednesday afternoon. The couple left the shop and walked back to their Belgravia flat carrying two large bags filled with a reported almost £900 worth of lingerie. Clearly these newlyweds are still in the honeymoon phase!” I read out to Tom, stress evident in my voice.

                “How do they know how much it cost?” he asked, confused.

                “Probably paid off the sales girl,” I deadpanned before reading on. “Tom will be appearing next in a West End Production of Coriolanus at the Donmar Warehouse starting on December 6th.”

                “It could have been worse,” he offered. “At least they didn’t make some tasteless sex joke besides the honeymoon phase comment.”

                I stared down at the offensive Daily Mail article, complete with a large picture of the two of us leaving the shop, before throwing it into the rubbish bin. Tom grabbed me by the waist and pulled me down onto his lap, pressing a kiss to my neck.

                “I don’t like it when complete strangers make speculations about us,” I admitted, tracing a groove in the wooden kitchen table with my finger. “Even if they really knew what was going on, they wouldn’t understand or they would judge us.”

                “It’s also none of their business. I say let them think what they want,” he replied.

                I sighed leaning my head against his shoulder. “I think it’s more of the fact that our personal life is out there for the world to see. I know I don’t work in an office setting, but I can only imagine what my co-workers who do are saying about me.”

                “If they have nothing better to do than gossip about you then they clearly don’t have enough work to do,” he spat.

                I shrugged, letting silence wash over us. It really wasn’t that bad that we were in the Daily Mail or even buying lingerie. It wasn’t scandalous in the slightest, but it still made me uncomfortable.

                “I’ve got to head off to the theater,” Tom said regretfully. “Try not to think about what that trash rag said today, all right?”

                “I’ll be fine. I’ve got a lot of work to keep me busy and a conference call in about a half hour. Have a good day at rehearsal,” I replied, getting off of his lap so he could stand. He leaned down and placed a soft, but passionate kiss on my lips.

                “Don’t forget about tonight,” he smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye.

                I blushed and patted his shoulder. “I could never forget,” I whispered.

                “Good. I’ll be home around six. I love you,” he said.

                “Love you too,” I replied, kissing him once more before he was out the door.

The rest of the day was extremely busy for me as my team and I were on conference call most of the morning, talking about how we would market British Airways for the upcoming holidays since it was the busiest time for flying. Before I knew it, it was almost five and I was drained. I’d decided to call it a day and headed into the bedroom to take a shower before Tom came home when the unopened pink bag from Agent Provocateur caught my eye.

I stared at it for a good five minutes before I decided that taking a peek wouldn’t do any harm. I pulled the box out of the bag, carefully removed the black ribbon, and pulled the lid off. There in the tissue paper was some of the sexiest and most revealing lingerie I had ever seen. My jaw dropped and my heart started to race.  _He really expects me to wear this? Is he out of his mind?_  It was a matching bra and knickers set in black with purple detailed trimming. The cups of the bra were mesh and completely see through, the knickers a thong with the same mesh on the top and black fabric covering the most intimate area.

He had also purchased the matching garter to go around my waist and a pair of thigh high black stockings to clip into it. My hands were shaking as I took the pieces out of the box and examined them more closely. I had to admit, they were very sexy, but they also scared the hell out of me. They were barely going to cover anything up and that thought was enough to almost make me put them back in the box and tell Tom I couldn’t do it.

 _“You have to go beyond your comfort levels sometimes and challenge yourself; otherwise you’ll just be stuck right where you are,”_ Dr. Lewin’s words from our last session ran through my head. _I have to do this; for me, for Tom, and for our marriage._ I swallowed hard and put the lingerie back into the box, taking the whole thing with me into the bathroom. I took a quick shower before drying my hair and taking the tags off. I faced away from the mirror as I put all the pieces on, terrified at what I was going to see when I eventually turned around.

                  Once I was situated, I grabbed the notebook and pen I had stashed in the vanity earlier that morning and slowly turned towards the mirror. I gasped at my reflection and almost dropped the pen and pad. I was completely exposed and the only thing I wanted to do was cover up. I sat down on the vanity chair, a full-blown panic attack about to overcome me. _How could he do this to me? I can’t do this. I can’t wear this for him._ After a good ten minutes of freaking out, I managed to get myself under control.

                  _Okay, Kerryn. Just relax. Look at yourself and see what you like about it._ After writing down that I hated I had to wear it and how vulnerable I felt, I stood up and examined myself in the mirror. The full view of the scars on my hips and breasts made me cringe. They were hideous, pink, jagged marks that not matter how much ointment I rubbed on them, they wouldn’t fade. I didn’t know how Tom could look past them when they were staring him right in the face. _How could he be distracted by anything?_

                  Moving my eyes away from the marks, I scanned the rest of myself. You could see my full breast through the mesh bra that left little to the imagination. I liked the stockings though, and how they made my legs look a mile long. Feeling that the outfit was missing something, I went into my closet and pulled out the pair of sky high black Louboutin’s that I’d only worn once before to one of Tom’s premieres. I slid them on my feet and walked a bit unstable back to the bathroom mirror.

                  _Seriously, where did my legs come from?_ I quickly jotted down that my legs looked incredible in the outfit compared to the slip I had worn the night before. I also liked the way the garter gave my hips and stomach definition, making the curve of my waist look small and feminine. The sound of the front door opening brought me back to reality and my eyes widened in alarm. It was six o’clock and Tom was home.

                  “Kerryn? You home?” he called, placing his keys in the bowl on the coffee table.

                  “In here!” I called out uneasily. _Well, it’s now or never._ I walked stood in the entry way from our bathroom to the bedroom, letting the light from behind me accentuate my silhouette.

                  “What a long day,” he said, his voice coming closer along with his footsteps. “I’ve got all my lines down thankfully, but working out the choreography is tedious.”

                  “At least it’s over,” I said.

                  Tom walked into the bedroom, not looking over at me as he kicked his shoes off and stretched. “I just want to curl up with you and order in some din…” his words cut off as he turned towards me and saw what I was wearing. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide, as he looked me up and down.

                  _Stand still. Don’t fidget, just let him look._ “Erm, see something you like?” I asked timidly, biting my bottom lip.

                  “Holy shit,” he whispered.

                  “I figured I’d maybe surprise you,” I said.

                  “You’ve succeeded,” he replied, his eyes not leaving my chest. “Jesus Christ, love, you’re so sexy.”

                  I blushed and fought the urge to cross my arms. “You think so?”

                  He looked at me like I had two heads. “Are you crazy? Have you seen yourself?”

                  “Yes. I already wrote down what I liked and didn’t like. Now it’s your turn,” I said.

                  Tom shook his head. “Later. Right now, I need to touch you.”

                  In three wide steps he was in front of me, his lips pressed passionately against mine and his hands resting on my cheeks. “Tom,” I gasped, pulling away.

                  “You’re incredible, do you know that?” he asked, resting his forehead against mine. “Be honest, what did you think when you first saw it?”

                  “It scared me. I had a panic attack and almost couldn’t wear it, but I had to. I love you and I want this to work. I need to push my own boundaries,” I replied.

                  “I’m glad you decided that you could wear it. I know it doesn’t exactly cover anything up, but I saw it and I just couldn’t stop thinking about what it would look like on you. Believe me, this surpasses all of my fantasies,” he said, his fingers gently tracing the skin on my back between the bra and the garter.

                  “Shouldn’t you be writing this down?” I asked, a slight tremble in my voice.

                  He shook his head. “I will, but there is no way I’m moving any further away from you than I am right now.”

                  He kissed me again, this time his hands going to my behind, which was exposed from the thong. I squealed when he squeezed the flesh in his strong hands, pulling me so that our bodies were pressed tightly together. We stood there in the bathroom doorway making out for what seemed like hours when he lead me back to the bed, breaking our kiss to sit me down and kneel in front of me.

                  I was out of breath and I was sure my hair was a complete disaster, but the look in Tom’s eyes told me that it turned him on. “I bought something else yesterday at the lingerie shop,” he said.

                  “Oh?” I asked.

                  Tom reached over into the bag I had been in earlier and dug out a small packaged wrapped in tissue paper. He opened it to reveal a black, silk sleeping mask with crystals on it. “I thought it’d be perfect for our second exercise.”

                  My mouth went dry and I stared down at the offending mask with apprehension. “You want to do that tonight?” I asked. _Wearing this lingerie was scary enough, now he wants me to take it off in front of him?_

                  “Why not?” he challenged. “What’s wrong with tonight?”

                  “Nothing, I guess,” I replied. “I just didn’t know we were going to kill two birds with one stone.”

                  “We don’t have to,” he said. “I just figured that since we’re already both extremely turned on, we could fool around and take care of our second exercise.”

                  “Oh,” I mumbled. “I mean, we can… if you want.”

                  Tom sighed, taking my hands in his and looking me in the eyes. “No, Kerryn. Not if I want; it’s if _we_ want. This is a two way street. If you’re not ready tonight, we don’t have to. It was just a suggestion.”

                  I shook my head. “No, I want to. I think we should talk about limits and stuff first.”

                  “Love, I won’t do anything we already haven’t done,” he promised. “I’m not going to blindfold you and then force myself on you.”

                  “I know,” I said hastily. “I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

                  “Okay,” he replied. “So, we’re going to do this?” he asked, holding up the mask once again.

                  “Yes,” I whispered, trying to keep my nerves in check.

                  Tom smiled brilliantly and slipped the sleep mask over my head and eyes. The darkness was alarming at first, but Tom placed gentle kisses on my face to calm me. “Don’t be afraid to tell me to stop,” he said. “I won’t be mad.”

                  “I’m okay,” I told him truthfully.

                  We started out slow, kissing as we had done a million times before his lips moved to my neck and chest, leaving a wet trail in their wake. It was erotic and frightening wearing the mask and being unable to see his next move. All of my senses, especially touch, seemed heightened with my loss of vision.

                  “Oh!” I exclaimed as his lips closed over my right nipple through the mesh material. My fingers moved into his hair as he created the most delicious sensations through my body. I’d barely even noticed his hands sneaking around by back and undoing my bra.

                  “As much as I love this on you,” he drawled. “ I want to see all of you.”

                  He pulled the material away from my body, uncovering my bare breasts for his viewing. Not being able to see him was making me anxious, but as soon as his mouth went back to teasing my nipples, those thoughts disappeared. His grunts and groans as he bathed me with pleasure was music to my ears. I couldn’t keep my hips still as I searched for any sort of friction that would relieve the ache in my loins.

                  “Tom,” I moaned. “Please!”

                  “Please what?” he asked against my flesh in a teasing tone.

                  “More!” I begged.

                  His mouth left my breast as he hastily pulled off the garter and stockings along with my heels. Finally his hands were at my thong and soon that joined the rest of my garments. I didn’t even care that I was naked and that he was surveying me like a piece of art in a museum; I just wanted his hands on me again. I blindly reached for him and came in contact with his arm, which I pulled towards me.

                  “Hold on,” he said and I heard the rustling of him shedding his clothes before he crawled up next to me, rolling me so that I was facing him even though I couldn’t see. His skin was warm against mine and I sighed at the feeling.

                  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured pressing soft kisses against my neck and chest. When his lips landed on one of my scars, I hissed and flinched away from him. I knew where every mark was on my body and Tom had never intentionally touched one before.

                  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Did it hurt?”

                  I shook my head. “You just surprised me.”

                  “Do you not want me to touch them?” he asked.

                  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I guess I don’t understand why you would want to.”

                  “Because they’re a part of you and I want to kiss every single inch of your skin, no matter what’s there. I don’t care about them. They don’t turn me off and they don’t make me think any different about you. I know how you feel about them and that’s all you can see when you look at yourself, but sweetheart I am looking at all of you right now and they are not even a blip on my radar,” he said.

                  “Really?” I asked doubtfully.

                  “I swear,” he promised. “You want to know what I love about seeing you naked? I love your breasts and how sensitive they are to my touch. I love your soft skin, especially on your stomach and your inner thighs. I love these legs that are the perfect length to wrap around me. And of course I love this,” he said huskily, pressing his palm in between my legs and making me whimper. “I love the way you respond when I touch you here. I love how you fall apart for me.”

                  “Tom,” I whispered pleadingly.

                  “Hm?” he replied, dragging his fingers up my dripping slit and slowly spreading the wetness across my sensitive nub.

                  “Oh God!” I exclaimed, throwing my head back and grasping his biceps tightly.

                  “Will you fall apart for me, love? You look so incredible right now. Your body is flushed a beautiful pink and every time you twitch, it makes me that much harder,” he groaned, pressing his erection against my hip and leaving a bead of his pre-come on my skin.

                  “Don’t stop!” I cried, my hips undulating with the motions of his fingers. I was climbing higher and higher, my body looking for the peak to fall over. When I was about to let go, Tom rolled me over onto my back and moved his hand away. “No!”

                  “Shhhh,” he soothed, kissing my forehead. “I’m not done with you.”

                  His lips travelled down my body, nipping at every sensitive area he could find while I was a shaking mess, in need of desperate release. Tom teased the delicate skin of my inner thighs with his lips and tongue before finally taking pity on me and pressing his tongue against my clit. I almost shot up off the bed at the contact and I cried out, threading my fingers in his blonde curls to hold him in place.

                  “Oh God! Yes! Right there! Don’t stop!” I wailed over and over, a slave to his talented tongue that never ceased to send me toppling over the edge within minutes.

                  Tom moaned against me, the vibrations shooting straight through my body and I came hard, crying his name as my back arched and my thighs violently shook. Tom moved away and I heard him grunt along with the sound of his hand working his erection frantically before he released on my stomach in thick ropes.

                  “Jesus,” he whispered through his labored breathing. Once he was finished, he collapsed beside me, reaching over to remove the sleep mask. Even though the room was dark, it still took a minute for my eyes to adjust.

                  “That was incredible,” I said, my body still shaking with aftershocks.

                  Tom sat up and looked over at me, a big smile on his face. “ _You’re_ incredible,” he countered, leaning over to kiss me before getting out of bed.

                  “Where are you going?” I asked, too spent to move.

                  “Getting something to clean you up with, unless you want my baby batter on your stomach all night?” he countered.

                  I made a face. “Ew, don’t call it baby batter. That just sounds gross.”

                  Tom laughed and went into the bathroom. I heard the sink running for a minute before he came back out, sitting on the bed beside where I was laying. He cleaned the evidence of his orgasm off of my stomach with a damp washcloth before throwing it in the hamper.

                  “You better plan on putting that in the washing machine tonight,” I said sternly. “I don’t want to wash my face with a crusty towel.”

                  Tom laughed and pulled me up, sitting me on his lap and holding me close. “I will put it in the wash. I promise.”

                  “Good,” I replied. “Now, what were you saying about ordering in and cuddling all night before all this happened? I’m pretty hungry now after working up quite the appetite.”

                  He leaned forward and kissed my lips. “Then we must replenish your nutrients. Chinese?”

                  “Chicken and Broccoli is the perfect way to regain my strength,” I nodded, giving him a bright smile.

                  “Then you shall have it,” he replied. “I love you, you know. You were amazing tonight and you showed me just how brave you are. Thank you for trusting me. You’re okay with what we did, right?”

                  I nodded. “It was daunting at first, but I love you too and I want to show you that even though we do have physical set backs, I trust you. Plus, the blindfold made it more intense. I couldn’t even anticipate your moves and not being able to see anything really made my other senses that much stronger. It was easier to just let go and feel.”

                  “I’m glad. You have nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to your body. I hope we’re past you covering yourself up all the time. I’ve officially seen every inch of you all at once tonight and not just in bits and pieces. You don’t have to hide anymore,” he said seriously.

                  “I’ll try,” I said. “If I do, though, you’ll be there to help me remember this moment.”

                  He nodded. “Always, love. I’ll always be there.”


	5. Session Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your overwhelming response to this story! It means a lot to me that you are reading and that it means something to you. I love reading your comments and hearing your feedback!
> 
> Warning: Smut ahead!
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone! See you in 2014 :-)

**Session Four**

“From your list, I see that you have a lot more that you liked about Tom’s pick of lingerie than your own, but you also have a lot more that you didn’t like. Why is that?” Dr. Lewin asked me.

                “Tom’s pick was a lot more revealing than mine. It was hard to get past how much of myself I was exposing. Mine was more conservative, but it didn’t flatter my shape the way Tom’s did,” I explained.

                “I loved them both,” Tom said. “Hers didn’t show as much so it left more to the imagination than mine did and mine showed off every curve and piece of skin that hers didn’t.”

                “Kerryn, how did you feel reading Tom’s lists?” she asked.

                I blushed and bit my lip. “He was very detailed, that’s for sure. I guess I feel flattered that he looks at me like that. It may be hard for me to accept my body and show it off, but knowing what Tom loves about it makes it a bit easier.”

 

                “Good. We’re all human and we all have insecurities about the way we look, but just remember how your husband sees you. There’s no reason to feel ashamed around him,” she said. “Now, how about the second part of the exercise?”

                Tom smiled. “I definitely enjoyed that bit.”

                “Me too,” I admitted, feeling my face heat up once again.

                “I’m guessing you did more than just look at her?” Dr. Lewin questioned.

                “I couldn’t not touch her,” he said. “At first she was hesitant with the blind fold, but once she relaxed, it was easy. She didn’t shy away from my touch or cover herself up. She let go and it was just natural.”

                “Kerryn?” she asked.

                “It was more intense when I couldn’t see anything. I wasn’t worrying about Tom looking at me, all I could concentrate on was what he was making me feel,” I said.

                “How long into your relationship did it take for things to excel on a physical level?” she asked.

                “About a year and a half,” Tom answered quietly. “Even then though, it was only really her touching me. Letting me touch her took a lot longer.”

                “Why did it take you longer, Kerryn?”

                “It was easier for me to be the one in control and touch him. It was scary at first, but not as scary as him touching me,” I admitted.

                “When did you let Tom first touch you?”

                “About two years into the relationship,” I mumbled.

                “I couldn’t do it anymore,” Tom said. “She was always giving me pleasure and it was really frustrating that she wouldn’t let me reciprocate.”

                “Were you performing oral sex on him?” she asked me.

                I nodded. “Like I said, it was easier for me to be the one in control. I didn’t feel pressured and satisfying him satisfied me. I was scared I was going to lose him if I didn’t at least make him feel good.”

                Tom looked at me incredulously. “I wasn’t going anywhere, Kerr. I just wanted us to be on the same page, but you were so far ahead.”

                “How did you convince her to let you reciprocate?”

                “I wouldn’t let her get me off anymore. I told her that we’re either in it together or not at all. I wanted to make her feel just as good as she made me feel. The last thing I ever wanted to do was rush her, but she needed that push. She needed to know that I wasn’t going to hurt her and that I just wanted to show her how much I cared about her,” he said.

                “It wasn’t easy,” I said quietly. “It took so long for me to relax and let go enough to feel good. Putting my guard down was something I had never been able to do since I was assaulted and to let Tom do anything to me where I couldn’t anticipate his next move was terrifying.”

                “Was having an orgasm difficult for you?” she asked.

                “Yes,” I whispered.

                “It took months,” Tom said. “I was patient, though. We tried lots of things, but the beginning was complicated.”

                “How so?”

                “Every time he would touch me, it would feel good at first and then I would panic or get nervous and it would hurt. My brain just wouldn’t turn off,” I explained.

                “When you finally achieved orgasm, was it easier to let Tom touch you and perform oral sex on you?” she asked.

                “Yes, although it took me a bit to warm up to having his mouth on me,” I replied.

                “And now she can’t get enough,” Tom said, a cheeky smile on his face.

                I rolled my eyes and nudged him with my elbow. “Stop it,” I scolded.

                Dr. Lewin chuckled. “It’s perfectly all right,” she assured me. “Now, when you’re intimate with each other, is penetration ever involved, whether it be with fingers or toys?”

                I shook my head. “No,” I whispered.

                “Have you tried?” she asked.

                “Once,” Tom said. “It was unsuccessful. It was too painful for her.”

                “Do you think that pain was mostly psychological, Kerryn? Do you think it could have been triggered by a memory of your assault?” she asked.

                “I don’t know,” I answered. “I didn’t panic or anything. It was just one finger, but I just couldn’t handle it.”

                She nodded. “Since you are a sufferer of PTSD, the side effects aren’t always flashbacks and panic attacks. It can make you feel physical pain as well, but it’s mostly all in your head. Since your only experience with any penetration was traumatizing, it’s no wonder you felt pain. We need to change your perception of it.”

                “How do we do that?” Tom asked.

                “Have you ever watched an adult video either together or alone?”

                I shook my head. “I’ve never watched any. I’ve never wanted to.”

                “I have,” Tom admitted.

                “I think you should watch one together. I’m not suggesting you watch anything crude or graphic, but I think watching other people have sex can show you the pleasurable side of it. It can be highly arousing to watch one together,” she explained.

                “So we should watch porn together?” Tom asked.

                She nodded. “Don’t be afraid to touch each other or yourselves. Be open with how you feel about what you’re watching. Then work penetration into it. Start with one finger and if you feel comfortable, go for more.”

                “Do you have any suggestions on what we should watch? I don’t want to see anything hard core,” I said, shivering at the thought.

                She scribbled on her notepad before ripping the sheet off and handing it to us. It was a website and a bunch of titles listed. “You do have to pay, but it’s not very expensive and they’re very tasteful.”

                “The money isn’t a problem,” Tom said, putting the paper into his pocket.

                “Perfect. Until next time then.”

                Tom and I left the office and walked out into the late November evening hand in hand. “Are you okay?” he asked.

                “Yeah I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting that to be our exercise,” I said honestly.

                “She hasn’t steered us wrong yet,” he reminded me, pulling me to a stop and wrapping his arms around me. “I love you,” he whispered, looking down at me intently. “I’m not going to hurt you and I think that this is going to help us ease into eventually making love.”

                “I hope so,” I said.

                Three days after our session, Tom and I finally had the time to work on our assignment. It was awkward for me, watching my husband scroll through a porn website and look for a video for us to watch. I had to say though, the website was not what I expected it to be. It didn’t have naked girls everywhere or any hardcore images. It was classy for a porn website and it put me a little bit at ease.

                “All right,” he said, after putting his credit card information in. “Which one shall we watch?”

                There were hundreds of videos, all titled with a screen shot preview and my hands started to shake.  _How do these people film themselves doing something so intimate?_

                “You pick,” I whispered.

                Tom looked back at me. “You all right?”

                I shrugged. “A little nervous.”

                He gave me a reassuring smile. “I love you and if you’re uncomfortable at any time, we’ll stop.” I nodded and he went back to the webpage. “How about ‘Everlasting Friends’? It’s on her list,” he said.

                I looked at the screenshot of a blonde girl sitting backwards on a guy’s lap, her legs spread wide showing that he was deep inside of her. “Sure,” I squeaked.

                  Tom clicked on the download link and it opened in a QuickTime Player. “Come here,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me so I was sitting between his legs, my back against his chest. We were on the bed, his back against the headboard and the laptop between my open feet.

                  “Should we get undressed?” I asked, not sure how this was supposed to work.

                  “Not yet,” he whispered. “Only if it turns you on.”

                  The video started with soft piano music playing and the blonde girl walking down glass stairs in a white button down and glasses with a book in her hand. She curled up on the couch at the bottom and began to read when the camera cut to the guy at the top of the stairs, looking over the railing at her. Soon he joined her, leaning over to kiss her before laying his head in her lap, staring up at her lovingly.

                  “This isn’t what I expected,” I admitted, surprised at how real it seemed.

                  “This could be us,” he murmured in my ear. “I think that was the whole point of her giving us this specific website.”

                  Pretty soon the couple was cuddled up on the couch, playfully, but passionately, kissing while his hand rubbed her behind, now uncovered from the shirt. The screen went black and when it cut back, her shirt was open while he planted kisses on her chest, taking her nipples in his mouth and running his tongue over them. I could feel Tom start to grow hard against my back as he ran his hands up and down my bare arms, softly kissing my neck.

                  My heart was pounding and my breathing was erratic as I tried to calm myself down and focus on the video. Her soft moans filled the room and Tom’s hands moved to my breasts, covered by a thin tank top. I gasped, feeling my nipples pebble under his palms as he teased me, squeezing and plucking them between his fingers.

                  The guy on the screen pulled the girl’s thong to the side and began caressing her intimately. Tom pulled my straps down, exposing my breasts, paying even more attention to my nipples while sucking on the sensitive skin behind my ear. I moaned, my fingers tightly grasping his lean thighs as he continued to lavish attention on my chest. He momentarily moved his fingers away, placing them in his mouth before moving back to my breasts, his saliva creating the slickness I craved.

                  The ache between my legs was growing and I knew my knickers had been rendered useless. I wanted nothing more than for him to slide his hands into my pajama pants, but he didn’t move any further. I turned my attention back to the computer just as the guy pressed his middle and ring fingers into the girl. She sighed contentedly as he slowly began to thrust them in and out.

                  Her moans grew louder as he stroked her insides and Tom’s fingers found their way to my waistband. I eagerly lifted my hips as he pulled my pants and knickers off in one go, tossing them carelessly to the floor. I was gasping for breath as I waited for him to take pity on me and touch me, but he only gently stroked my thighs. The girl in the film grabbed the guy’s hand that was still inside of her and moved it faster and harder, rotating her hips at the same time. She was practically screaming by this point and I was slowly soaking our duvet cover with my own arousal.

                  “Please,” I practically sobbed, shaking against my husband, who was still fully clothed.

                  “Watch,” he whispered, grabbing my right hand in his and bringing them both to my center. I was drenched as Tom guided our fingers through my folds together, gently circling my clit.

                  “Jesus,” he panted against my neck. “You’re so wet.”

                  I whimpered as he continued to guide our fingers, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. Every time I would get close though, he would stave off, making me come back down. The third time he did it, I practically burst into tears and begged him to get me off.

                  “Not yet,” he murmured. “I want you wetter than you’ve ever been. I want my fingers to slide right into you just like his are into her. I want to feel you come from the inside out.” At his last words, the girl orgasmed, her body relaxing against the guy’s as he softly stroked her, making her body twitch with aftershocks.

                  After she had recovered, he laid back and she helped him undo his jeans, pushing them around his ankles as his erection sprung free. She wasted no time taking him in her mouth and I reached behind me, stroking Tom through his pants.

                  “Mmmmm,” he hummed, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. With his help, I got his pants undone, taking his erection into my hand, which was still wet from when I was stroking myself. Tom hissed, his hips thrusting forward into my back, his movements made easy by the lubrication.

                  “Baby,” he whispered. “Fuck.”

                  I moaned as his fingers found their way back to my clit, massaging me and bringing me closer to the edge again. With a pop, the girl released the guy from her mouth and straddled him backwards, sinking down on his erection. I froze, and Tom stiffened, stopping his fingers movements to gage my reaction.

                  She was sliding up and down on him with ease and he would thrust up to fill her. It was mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to let the memories of how painful it was pour over me.

                  “Kerryn,” Tom said softly in my ear. “Open your eyes, love. Open them and watch her. Watch her face as they make love.”

                  I took a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes, seeing her head thrown back onto his shoulder as she sensually moved her hips. His fingers grasped her flesh as they moaned in unison.

                  “Do you see? Do you see how good he’s making her feel?” Tom asked me, his fingers moving against me once more. “She’s not in pain. He’s not hurting her. Look at her face. She likes him inside of her. Do you hear the sounds she’s making? They’re sounds of pleasure.”

                  I moaned quietly as I watched them moving together, Tom’s fingers drawing circles over my clit to enhance my arousal. My hand started moving over him again and he groaned, pressing himself even closer to me. The only sounds in the room were of the four of us moaning and their skin slapping together as she moved above him.

                  “Oh God!” I cried out, my body spasming as I came, watching as the girl orgasmed at the same time.

                  “Jesus,” Tom grunted, slowing his movements, knowing I was extremely sensitive to his touch. “Please, baby. Let me feel you.”

                  I nodded, not caring what he did as long as he made me come again. Gently, he pressed his middle finger against my entrance and slid it deep within me, his movement made easy by my abundant wetness. My body stiffened and I cried out as my pain receptors went off. I tried to pull away, but Tom held me firmly against him.

                  “Relax,” he whispered. “You’re okay. Listen to me, love. You’re fine.” I ceased my struggle and little by little, relaxed against him until my breathing slowed. “That’s it, beautiful. Don’t think just feel. You saw how good me made her feel, now let me make you feel that.”

                  I inhaled sharply as he slowly pulled his finger out and pushed it back it. This time it felt different. It didn’t hurt at all and I realized that it had been mostly in my head. “Tom,” I whispered, relaxing even more against him as he thrust his finger in and out of me.

                  “Mmmmm Kerr. You’re so tight, baby. Feels so good,” he groaned and I gasped as he pressed up against my front wall. He did it again and I moaned, my free hand moving to his, wanting him to keep going. Tom slipped his index finger in along with his middle and I grimaced at the stretching sensation as his impossibly long fingers reached deep within me.

                  “Right here?” he whispered, pressing up hard against that same spot. I cried out in pleasure, my hand moving even faster against his erection. “There it is. That’s it, baby. Am I making you feel good? Do you want more?”

                  I nodded harshly, the adult video now over and long forgotten as Tom’s fingers pressed what seemed to be a magic button inside of me. “More!” I cried.

                  Tom pulled his fingers out of me and moved us so I was on my back, my thighs spread wide, and he was over me, his erection against my hip. I grasped him again, jerking him off as he pushed his fingers back inside, pressing upwards.

                  “You feel that?” he asked, staring down at me intently. “I won’t stop touching you there until you come for me again.”

                  My body felt out of my control as Tom took me to new heights and gave me new pleasures I’d never experienced before. My orgasm was building even deeper and felt so much different than any other one I’d had.

                  “Tom!” I cried out, my mind being swept away from the intensity of my orgasm. I could feel my walls clamping tightly over his fingers involuntarily again and again. I couldn’t stop coming and Tom was relentless, not stopping until he exploded all over my hip and thigh in thick spurts. We laid there for what seemed like hours, trying to catch our breath and come back down to earth.

                  Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of me and kissed me deeply. “Thank you,” he whispered against my lips.

                  I shook my head. “What for?”

                  “For trusting me,” he said. “For loving me. For giving yourself to me.”

                  “Thank you for the same,” I replied. “Thank you for showing me we can do this.” Tears gathered in my eyes and he kissed me again. “I’m sorry it’s taking me so long.”

                  “No,” he said incredulously. “You’re so brave, love. I don’t know how I would ever handle myself if I was in your shoes.”

                  “It’s easier because I have you,” I told him. “I can’t live without you. I wouldn’t be able to do this with anyone, but you. Thank you for being so patient with me all these years.”

                  Tom smiled. “I’d wait forever for you. It doesn’t matter to me how long it takes. When we make love, it’s going to be special and it’s going to be perfect.”

                  “It’ll be with you. That’s all I need.”

                  Tom and I cleaned up and cuddled close, listening to the bustle of the early evening going on outside, happy to be together in our own little world.

                  If only it would have lasted.


	6. Sex Therapy - Session Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you all had a great one! I know I did. I also hope that all of my other fellow Americans are keeping warm in these record shattering cold days! No fun at all!
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos on the last chapter and every chapter I’ve put out so far. I smile wider than you can imagine and I appreciate it all! You’re all amazing readers and I enjoy writing for you!
> 
> This chapter contains a brief scene of smut so be warned! Other than that, enjoy :-)

**Session Five**

“I don’t want to go,” I whimpered, wrapping my arms around myself.

                “Sweetheart, we have to, especially now,” Tom replied softly. We were in or bathroom, me sitting on the lid of the toilet and Tom on the edge of the large bathtub. We had been in there for about an hour, my stomach repeatedly threatening to expel its contents at any moment.

                “I can’t, Tom. We can’t. They know and they’ll be there,” I said, the strain evident in my voice.

                Tom pushed off the edge of the tub and kneeled in front of me, his hands holding my face so I couldn’t look away from him. “They don’t know _anything_ ,” he said with conviction. “All they’re doing is making assumptions and they’re all wrong. Who cares if they’re there? Let them think what they want. This is about you and me only.”

                I shook my head, letting the tears that had been building up fall. “Why can’t they just leave us alone? Why do they need to know everything that’s going on in our lives?”

                Tom’s thumbs brushed the salty streaks from my cheeks before kissing me softly. “I will fix this, all right? I promise.”

                I looked at him incredulously. “How? If you start talking about it, people are going to think it’s true!”

                “No they won’t,” he said firmly. “Just trust me.”

                The past couple of days had been absolute hell for us. After the beautiful night we had shared together, taking forward steps in our intimacy, we had woken up to shit hitting the fan. Neither Tom nor I had noticed, but we were photographed leaving the therapist’s office on our last visit and rumors of us needing couples counseling and on the brink of divorce after only four months of marriage began to spread like wildfire throughout the tabloids and internet. Blogs such as Perez Hilton were beginning to take guesses on when we would be announcing our separation and calling it “another failed Hollywood marriage.”

                There were also the female actresses out there, offering Tom a shoulder to cry on or saying that they’d be more than willing to date him once our relationship ended. They were all over Twitter and even on Entertainment news and shows talking about it, winking at the camera and telling Tom to call them. It made me sick that they were receiving such pleasure from our pain and actually believing stories that weren’t true.

                Tomorrow, we were due back at Dr. Lewin’s for our fifth session and I tried to talk Tom into cancelling it. I knew there would be paparazzi waiting for us as there already were just outside of our flat. I didn’t want us to be photographed together at such a private moment and I didn’t want the press to know how much they had upset me.

                “Can’t we just do the session by phone call? I don’t want to go out there. Please,” I begged, my fingers fisting his shirt.

                “Shhhh,” Tom soothed me, his fingers gently stroking my cheeks again. “It’s all right, love. I know you’re scared, but she can help us. Maybe she’ll be able to provide us some insight on how to deal with this on top of everything else. No matter what, though, I’m here and I always will be. Nothing is going to change that.”

                I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my forehead against his. “I love you,” I whispered. “I knew that we would have to deal with the press interfering with our personal lives, but this is too personal, Tom. This is not okay for them to do.”

                “Trust me, I know. I’m not happy at all about it. Luke can attest to that. I nearly started smashing things in his office the other day. This will pass though. I will do everything in my power to make sure it does,” he said, kissing me deeply.

                I returned it and pushed him back so he was sitting on the tiles while I climbed onto his lap. His arms immediately went around my back to hold me close, our lips never parting. We sat there on the bathroom floor kissing for what seemed like hours when a light bulb went off in my brain. _We don’t need to go. I can make sure of that._

                Slowly, my fingers reached for the top button of Tom’s shirt, undoing it before moving down to the next. I got halfway down before Tom pulled away. “What are you doing?” he asked.

                I shrugged. “Can’t a woman take her husband’s shirt off?”

                “Of course you can. It’s just you were so upset a moment ago and now you want to fool around?” he asked, confused.

                I shook my head. “I don’t want to fool around,” I whispered, placing kisses on his neck.

                Tom groaned, pulling me even more tightly to him before asking, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                I didn’t answer, just continued lavishing kisses on any expanse of his skin I could reach. He didn’t protest, letting me push him so he was lying down. If he was uncomfortable at all on the hard floor, he didn’t voice it, so I kept kissing him and unbuttoning his shirt. He helped me pull it off once it was open and I began working on his belt buckle.

                “Kerryn,” he moaned, trying to get my attention, but I ignored him, undoing his pants and letting his erection spring free. Without a second thought, I took him in my mouth and he hissed, weaving his fingers through my hair to gently guide me. He was swollen against my tongue and I sucked him greedily letting my saliva lubricate my lips to smoothly run up and down the expanse of him.

                “Jesus,” he groaned, looking down at me with heavy lidded eyes.

                His moans and swears filled the expanse of the bathroom as I sucked him, feeling his thighs tense every time I ran my tongue on the sensitive underside near the head. His breathing was harsh as he got closer and closer to the edge, but before he could let go, I pulled away, much to his chagrin. _He’s almost there. He won’t last long. It will be like ripping off a band-aid._

                “What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing me as I began to shakily pull my clothes off. When I was down to my knickers, he sat up and held my hands before I could pull them off. “Answer me.”

                My entire body was trembling, both from the cold tiles against my skin as well as my over abundant nerves. “I want you,” I replied softly.

                  “Be more specific,” he stated, staring hard at me.

                  I couldn’t say anything. All I could do was stare at him and hope he understood what I meant. A minute later, a look of utter shock came over his face and he shook his head, standing up and redoing his pants.

                  “What are you doing?” I asked, panic evident in my voice.

                  He reached down and grabbed his shirt, putting it back on. “Put your clothes on. We need to talk,” he said simply before leaving me alone in the bathroom.

                  The overwhelming feeling of rejection filled me to the brim and my face grew hot, my eyes stinging with tears. Numbly, I pulled my clothes back on and walked into the bedroom where Tom was sitting on the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

                  “You don’t want me?” I asked hurtfully.

                  Tom looked up at me, horror written on his face. “Of course I want you!” he exclaimed, reaching forward to pull me onto his lap. “I want you all the time. That’s not why I stopped you.”

                  “Then why did you? I was giving you what you want,” I reasoned.

                  He shook his head. “When are you ever going to get it through that thick skull of yours that this is not just about what I want? Did you even want it? Are you really ready?”

                  His questions stumped me and I stuttered, trying to come up with an answer. Tom sighed and wiped his left hand down his face. “You can’t even say yes. What were you thinking?”

                  His voice was scolding and I flinched. “I’m not a child, you know,” I reminded him. “I don’t need you to slap me on the wrists for trying to rectify our situation.”

                  “Well you’re going about it all wrong. What were you going to do? Just sit yourself down on me like it was no big deal? Did you even think?” he asked incredulously.

                  Now I was angry. I pushed myself off of his lap and stood in front of him with my arms crossed. “Don’t patronize me,” I hissed.

                  “Well don’t try and make such big decisions by yourself! This works both ways. I want you, Kerryn. I love you more than anything, but sometimes you do things like this and you frustrate me to no end,” he said, trying to keep his temper in check.

                  I huffed. “You think you don’t frustrate me? Why can’t you just listen to me when I say I don’t want to go to the damn appointment tomorrow? Can’t you see how this is affecting me?”

                  “Stop,” he said, holding his hands up. “Let’s stop this before we get into a bloody ridiculous fight and start saying things we’ll regret out of anger. We’re both stressed and upset at the media circus our life has become and we need to not turn on each other like they want us to. We can’t let them win.”

                  I sighed, slumping my shoulders and sitting next to him on the bed. “You’re right,” I agreed. “I just can’t do this, Tom. I can’t even think about walking out that door without having a panic attack.”

                  “And I told you that I will fix it,” he said.

                  “How do you plan on doing that before tomorrow night? Don’t go making a statement because you’ll just make it worse,” I begged.

                  “I’m not going to make a statement,” he promised. “But I am going to do something. Everything is going to work out.”

                  “I hope so,” I whispered.

                  “It will,” he said. “Now, you want to explain to me why you did what you did in the bathroom?”

                  I sighed. “I just figured if we went through with it, we wouldn’t need to go to therapy anymore,” I rationalized. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

                  “Let’s not do it again, all right? When it does happen, I don’t want it to be on the bathroom floor and I don’t want it to be for any reason other than you’re ready for it,” he said, leaning over to kiss me.

                  “Deal,” I agreed.

                  With Tom’s assurance to attempt to calm my nerves, he left for the rest of the day to do press for his upcoming leading role in Coriolanus on West End while I tried to get some work done. The minutes seemed to crawl by as I waited for him to get home and it was dark out by the time I heard him come in. I ran to the foyer to greet him and saw him placing his umbrella in the holder to dry.

                  “Did they ask you a million questions about us? Do they believe that we’re on the brink of divorce?” I asked nervously.

                  “Well hello to you, too,” he replied, leaning down to plant a kiss on my lips.

                  “Tommmmmmm,” I whined, following him into the kitchen.

                  “I’m starving,” he said. “Want to go out?”

                  I narrowed my eyes. “No, now stop avoiding the question!”

                  He leaned back against the counter and stared at me, a small smirk on his lips. “You’re absolutely adorable when you’re flustered.”

                  I huffed and fought the urge to stamp my foot. “Fine! I’ll just go Google it, then!”

                  Before I could make it fully out of the kitchen, Tom wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. “There’s no need to Google anything,” he whispered.

                  I turned around in his arms so I was looking up at him. “So they didn’t ask?”

                  “Oh they asked, but I gave them an answer they weren’t expecting,” he said.

                  “What did you say?” I questioned nervously.

                  Tom looked at the clock on the microwave quickly before turning back to me. “Well, she said she would be posting the video at eight and it’s half past, so I’ll show you.”

                  I followed Tom into the office where he booted up his laptop and went onto the London Evening Standard’s website. He clicked on the “Arts” area and a video of him was the first one to pop up, the caption, “Tom Hiddleston talks Coriolanus and what’s really important to him.” I sat on his knee as he clicked play and twisted my fingers together nervously.

                  He answered all of the reporter’s questions about the play and then came the one that made my chest tightened. “Your marriage has been in the papers a lot recently with a lot of divorce rumors going around. Care to have your say in it all?”

                  Tom cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “You know, it’s really hard to have your life be in the public eye all the time. People who you don’t even know think that they have a right to know every personal thing about you, but what they don’t realize is that you’re a person just like they are and you have your good times and your bad times. My wife and I were photographed during a private moment; one where we were leaving a therapists office and everyone jumps to the conclusion that our marriage is on the rocks.

                  “I’m not going to get into it because it’s personal and it’s no one’s business, but my wife and I are happily married. Instead, I want to bring light to another issue that I’ve never spoken publicly about before. Sexual assault of any nature is not something I take lightly. It happens all too often to both men and women, but mostly women. I just want to say to all those people that have suffered through any sort of sexual assault that you’re not alone and that there is help out there,” he concluded.

                  “Are you saying that your wife is a victim of sexual assault and that is why you’re seeking counseling?” she asked.

                  Tom took a deep breath before huffing it out. “My wife is the strongest person I know. She’s been through so much and has still managed to come out on the other side. I love her and I will always be there for her for better or for worse. I will fight for her and by her side and be there for her no matter what. Some people aren’t that lucky. Some people feel that they have no one to turn to, so in agreement with Donmar Warehouse, we are taking all of the money made by ticket sales and donating it to Rape Crisis London.”

                  My jaw dropped and I turned back to see him looking at me, biting his lips together with his brow furrowed.

                  “That is extremely generous of you,” the reporter said.

                  “It is the least we can do. If the media has to focus on anything, I would like them to focus on this great charity. My wife and I are getting the help we need in this situation, so instead of turning the attention on us, they should promote Rape Crisis London and get the word out that there is help for those in need. They can visit [www.rapecrisislondon.org](http://www.rapecrisislondon.org) or call 0808 802 99 99,” he said.

                  Tom reached forward to pause the video. “That’s it,” he said, his face wary and trying to gage my reaction.

                  I threw my arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder, unable to contain the emotions flooding through me. Tom hugged me close, shushing me and trying to calm me down, but I couldn’t stop crying. Tom pulled back and brushed the hair back from my face. “Calm down, love. I don’t want you to make yourself sick.”

                  I couldn’t help but kiss him, no matter how wet my lips were or how snotty my nose was from my crying. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I love you so much.”

                  “I love you, Kerryn. I was a bit nervous that you’d be mad at me for basically telling the world the truth,” he admitted.

                  I shook my head. “No. In a way, I’m glad you did. There are so many women out there in my situation that need help and it means more to me than anything else that you are bringing attention to it and saying that they don’t have to be ashamed and that they’re not alone.”

                  Tom’s responding smile took my breath away. “I think we’ll be left alone now that they know there’s no scandal here.”

                  The next day, Tom’s video had gone viral and all media sites had retracted their statements that our marriage was in shambles. Since I did press charges on my attacker, the news outlets were able to obtain a copy of the police report and it had quickly gone viral. I wasn’t too happy about it, but the photographers and journalists seemed to have gained an ounce of respect for themselves and for Tom and me as they were not waiting outside Dr. Lewin’s office the next night.

                  “Well, I saw you two had quite a week,” she commented after greeting us.

                  “It was stressful, that’s for sure, but in the end, it worked out for the better,” I replied.

                  “It sure did. That was a very noble thing you did, Tom, drawing attention to the issue and promoting help for those who are suffering,” she said.

                  “Thank you. I had spoken to the theater company prior to giving that interview and they didn’t hesitate with saying yes. They thought it was a great idea. It’s a worthy cause and while most people think of it as taboo, I don’t want it to go unnoticed,” he said.

                  “Well, I’m very happy with all of this progress you two are making. Did you have any success with the exercise I assigned?” she asked.

                  I nodded. “Yes.”

                  “Were you okay with being penetrated this time around?”

                  “At first, she wasn’t,” Tom answered. “She tried to pull away and I could see that she was in pain, but I didn’t want her to give up. I got her to relax and after that she was much better.”

                  “Did you enjoy it, Kerryn?”

                  “Yeah. It’s feels a lot different than other stimulation,” I said, my cheeks turning pink.

                  “Were you able to orgasm?” I nodded. “That’s great news. I know it can be hard, but I’m glad you didn’t make Tom stop.”

                  “I couldn’t even if I wanted too. His fingers were touching something that multiplied any pleasure I had felt before. It was so intense and I felt as if I had lost control of my body,” I said.

                  “He was stimulating your g-spot,” she guessed, looking over at Tom who nodded. “It can be very pleasurable for women and some can orgasm from just that stimulation alone. It seems you are one of them.”

                  “The video we watched also eased her into it. At first I could feel how tense she was when they first started having sex, but I made her focus on how the man was making the other woman feel. I wanted her to see that she wasn’t in any pain and her sounds were of pleasure,” Tom said.

                  “That’s a good way to go about it. What went through your head when the couple started having sex?” Dr. Lewin asked me.

                  “I don’t know, really. It kind of freaked me out and I couldn’t understand how it was so easy for her to just take him so painlessly,” I admitted.

                  “You were about to try last night,” Tom reminded me. We had made up, but I could tell he was still upset about the whole situation.

                  “You attempted intercourse last night?” Dr. Lewin asked in surprise.

                  “She did,” Tom clarified. “She was upset about everything going on in the press and she was afraid to come here, thinking that they were going to yet again invade our privacy. So she thought that if we had sex, we wouldn’t have to come anymore. We even fought a bit about it.”

                  “I’m sorry,” I said for what felt like the millionth time. “I was upset and clearly letting my emotions take over my actions. Thinking back, I probably wouldn’t have been able to go through with it anyway.”

                  “I hear quite a bit of resentment from both of you right now,” she commented.

                  “Yeah, well I’m not exactly thrilled that she tried to use sex to solve this problem when it was something we promised we weren’t going to rush into,” Tom said bitterly.

                  “And I’m not thrilled with how he treats me like a child and scolds me like I ate cookies before dinner or something,” I bit back, feeling irritated.

                  “Fighting is healthy and completely normal in relationships. You’re supposed to have disagreements. In this case though, I think you need to support each other instead of turn it into an argument. Instead of getting angry with her, Tom, you could try to calmly ask her why she’s doing what she’s doing and then talk rationally and level headed about it. Kerryn, you also need to communicate to Tom what is going through your head instead of acting on impulses like that. It only makes things worse,” Dr. Lewin suggested.

                  Tom blew out a breath and I could see him visibly calm down before turning to me. “She’s right. This isn’t something we should be arguing about.”

                  “I agree,” I said. “Can we sweep it under the rug?”

                  “Already swept,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my temple.

                  “Good. Now, for your next exercise, I suggest you both pick a time when you’re free and go visit one of the rape crisis centres. Set up a tour, see exactly what they do, and if you feel up to it, sit in and maybe even participate in a group therapy session. Listening to others in your position and even sharing your own story can help tremendously,” she said.

                  “That seems like a good idea. We should get to know the charity I’m advocating for and I think they’ll appreciate a visit,” Tom agreed.

                  “Okay,” I nodded.

                  I wasn’t sure if I would be able to participate at the centre, but Tom would be by my side. He was charming and charismatic and made people feel at ease. No matter how nervous it made me, I would do it for him like he was doing this for me. I looked over at my beautiful husband and couldn’t help but feel that I was the luckiest woman in the world.


	7. Session Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy! Thank you all for your patience, kind words, and love of this story!

**Sex Therapy – Session Six**

“It was difficult to trust anyone at first,” the girl named Eliza said. “But once I realized that Rick wasn’t going to hurt me, that he was different, it made it so much easier to open myself up again. I constantly felt as if I was suffocating and then he came along, being the first breath of fresh air I’d had since I was attacked.”

                Rick, who was sitting next to her, grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “I love her,” he said. “Her past didn’t matter to me. She’s perfect just the way she is.”

                “Thank you, Eliza and Rick,” Erin, the group leader, said.

                Tom and I were currently sitting in a circle of six other couples at one of the Rape Crisis centers. We had been given the tour of the facility and had met most of the staff before we were invited to sit in on a group couple’s therapy session. Everyone was extremely nice and very welcoming, but it was definitely more intimidating than our private sessions.

                “Who would like to share next? Tom? Kerryn? You’re new to the group and we haven’t heard from you yet,” Erin said.

                I cleared my throat and shook my head. “No thank you,” I whispered.

                “Everything you say here is completely confidential,” she assured us.

                “We’re more here to observe,” I said.

                Erin smiled softly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re all in this together.”

                Tom, sensing me becoming uncomfortable, spoke up. “We are very grateful that you are letting us sit in on this session, but we’ve decided to keep our lives as private as possible. While we realize that this is confidential, I know that things always seem to make their way into the papers and that is the last thing either of us wants. So I’m going to have to respectfully decline,” he said politely.

                Erin held her hands up as if surrendering. “Understandable. All right, who would like to go next? How about you, Alicia and Steven? Are you ready to share today?”

                I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed some, turning my attention to the brunette couple across from us.

                “Hi, my name is Alicia, and this is my boyfriend Steven,” she nervously introduced the two of them in her thick Essex accent. We all greeted them with murmurs of “hello” before she continued. “This is our third time coming here and I’ve never had the courage to share my story. Maybe it was shame, but listening to all of you made me realize that I’m not alone and this is the last place I’ll be judged.”

                “That’s wonderful, Alicia. We’re glad you’re finally deciding to share,” Erin encouraged.

                “This is really hard for me, but here goes nothing. I was molested by my father when I was a child. From the ages of six to fourteen, my father would come into my room at night, drunk, and have his way with me. I remember crying for my mother when it began, but she never came to help…” she trailed off, her voice breaking. She was silent for a few moments before continuing. "As time went by I learned to keep my mouth shut and just let it happen. It was easier than putting up a fight.”

                My stomach was churning, listening to her horrifying tale.  _How could a father do something like that to his child?_

                “When I was fifteen, I ran away. Came down to London and was living on the streets for about a year. I sold my body to be able to afford something to eat. It didn’t matter to me anymore. I hated my body with every fiber of my being. It was tainted and dirty and I didn’t care what happened to me. I turned to drugs soon enough and I had completely hit rock bottom.”

                I was shocked to hear what her life used to be like. She looked like a completely normal girl, no signs of drug use or trauma. Her eyes were the only thing that gave away how emotionally scarred she was. I could see her pain in their haunting depths and I had to turn my head away, grasping onto Tom’s hand. He laced his fingers with mine and squeezed.

                “I would go to the soup kitchens every once in a while to get a hot meal. If I wasn’t shooting up in an alleyway or standing on a street corner trying to earn some cash, I would be with others who were just like me in the shelters or soup kitchen. That’s where I met Steven,” she said, looking lovingly over at him.

                He gave her a soft smile and I could see his admiration for her. “I was volunteering with some of my mates. We had been doing it since we were kids in school and even though we had long since graduated, we never stopped volunteering. I liked the people that came in. People see the homeless as lazy or psychotic and dangerous, but most were none of those things. There were just like everyone else, except they were struggling. I learned so much from them; a lot of important life lessons. Then one day I saw Alicia,” he said.

                “I was going through withdrawal. I hadn’t had a fix in a few days since I’d run out of money. I remember feeling so sick and almost collapsing. Steven sat me down and gave me water, talking to me and trying to distract me from the tremors and nausea overtaking my body. He even got me to eat something,” she shared, smiling fondly at the memory.

                “After that I saw her once a week on my volunteer days. I would stay and talk to her after my shift was over,” Steven said.

                “I opened up to him about my life. I told him what I went through for eight years and how I ended up on the streets. He never judged me or pitied me,” Alicia said.

                “I wanted to help her. I couldn’t stand to see someone as amazing as her in such a terrible situation. I helped her get off of the drugs, clean up, and even get a job. She deserved so much more than she was allowing herself to have. She deserved happiness. I didn’t care about her past. I wasn’t going to let that define her as a person. I found myself falling in love with her as time went by and I am now the luckiest bloke on earth to have her,” Steven finished.

                “How long have you two been together?” Erin asked.

                “Three years now,” Alicia replied. “I haven’t seen or spoken to my parents since I ran away all those years ago and I don’t plan on it. For all I know they could be dead. I love my new life and I’m so grateful to have found Steven. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

                “That’s wonderful. Thank you so much for having the courage to share your story with us, Alicia. I know it inspired a lot of us here,” Erin said. We all thanked Alicia and Steven while Erin looked down at her watch. “I’m afraid our time is up for today. Thank you to those who shared and for those who listened, I hope hearing others talk about their experiences was helpful to you.”

                Once meeting was adjourned, Tom and I stood up and made our way over to Erin. “Thank you so much for letting us sit in on this session,” Tom said.

                “Of course. Thank you for supporting our cause. You are both welcome back any time,” she replied with a smile, shaking both of our hands.

                “Thank you,” I said.

                Tom and I left the center hand in hand, getting into his Jaguar, and driving back to our flat. The ride was silent as I stared out the window, pondering everything we had seen and heard that day. I couldn’t get a hold of the emotions running through me. It was much more overwhelming than I ever thought it could be.

                “You all right?” Tom asked, breaking the silence.

                “Hm?” I replied, turning towards him.

                “You’re trembling and practically crushing my fingers,” he noted, nodding towards his hand that was still in mine while he drove.

                “Oh!” I exclaimed, letting go of his pale white fingers. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

                He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. What’s wrong?”

                “Nothing,” I said quickly. “I was just thinking about some of the girls’ stories.”

                Tom cleared his throat. “Some were hard to listen to,” he admitted. “The one about the girl’s father molesting her made me sick. I don’t know how I kept my composure.”

                “I don’t know how she was intimate with anyone after all of that,” I whispered.

                “She didn’t care anymore. She was at rock bottom and she didn’t care what happened to her. As we heard, that happens more often than you’d think,” he said.

                “I don’t understand,” I admitted painfully. “How? How does that happen? She was letting random men have their way with her and I can’t even let my husband make love to me!”

                Tom took my hand back in his. “It’s your way of coping, sweetheart. Everyone is different. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

                “Yes there is!” I cried.

                Tom sighed heavily and pulled the car over, putting it in park. “Love, look at me.”

                Slowly, I turned my head towards him. “Why did you marry me?” I asked softly.

                Tom huffed, turning towards me and taking my face in his hands. “Listen to me,” he said gently, but firmly. “I love you more than anything. You are my world, my life, my everything. Without you, I am nothing. I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything. We have our issues, every couple does, but I will never stop fighting for you. Do you understand? I can’t live without you.”

                I bit my lip and swallowed the lump that had grown in my throat. “I can’t live without you either,” I agreed. “I just feel that I’m holding you back sometimes. I feel like we’re going to be haunted forever by my past and it’s going to destroy us.”

                “Stop,” Tom said. “Stop saying things like that. We’re going to get through this. I think going to the center did us more harm than good. I need you to not compare yourself to everyone else, Kerryn. Everyone is different. I’d rather have what we have than what anyone else there does.”

                I sniffled, blinking back tears. “I know,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I’m freaking out, I just feel like Dr. Lewin gave us this assignment and we completely failed it.”

                “We didn’t fail, love. You can’t fail therapy,” he chuckled. “She’s having us try different things to see what help and this one just didn’t suit our needs. It’s okay. It’s trial and error.”

                I moved my head slightly and kissed his palm. “Thanks for talking me off the edge,” I said softly.

                Tom smiled. “Anything for you.”

                Tom and I spent the rest of the ride back to our flat in a comfortable silence, our hands clasped together. We had been trying to get in as much time as possible together since Tom’s play was opening in a few days’ time. I treated just being alone in the car with him as a luxury vacation as I knew once the curtain officially opened, out time together would decrease dramatically.

                I was excited for his show. Tom was an amazing actor on both the stage and screen, especially in any work by Shakespeare. I always told Tom that he had been born a couple hundred years too late. He assured me that if he did indeed have a past life before this one, it would have been on the stage at The Globe Theatre, playing Henry V in the early 17th century.

                Minutes later, Tom pulled up in front of our flat and killed the engine before bringing my hand to his lips. “I love you,” he murmured against the skin, sending shivers up my spine.

                “And I love you,” I whispered, turning towards him. Tom and I stared at each other for what seemed like hours before he leaned in and planted a kiss softly on my lips. I moaned slightly, my fingers grasping at the sleeves of his jacket, trying to get as close to him as possible with the center console being between us.

                When I was breathless, Tom pulled away. “Do you feel that?” he whispered, pressing his hand to my rapidly beating heart. “Do you feel it in here? How much I love you?”

                I nodded, pressing my forehead against his. “I always feel it,” I admitted.

                “Then there is no need for you to ever doubt again why I married you.”

 __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

                The next day was our sixth therapy session. We were almost halfway to our recommended amount of sessions and I was feeling good about it. Sure, we still had a bit of a ways to go and there were a few bumps in the road, but I was already looking forward to the end.

                “So, how was your visit to the center?” Dr. Lewin asked after we had gotten comfortable on the couch across from her.

                I bit my lip and Tom cleared his throat. “It was… interesting,” he said cautiously.

                Dr. Lewin raised her eyebrow. “Did something go wrong?”

                I shook my head. “Not wrong, exactly. It just… it wasn’t what I was expecting.”

                “Did you sit in on a group session?” she pressed.

                “We did,” I affirmed.

                “It wasn’t the right fit for us,” Tom admitted. “The people there were lovely and welcoming, but it didn’t really help us like I was expecting it to. In fact, it did quite the opposite.”

                “Oh… well that _is_ interesting. Explain it to me,” she said.

                I looked down at my lap. “Just hearing everyone’s stories was difficult. Some of the things these girls went through were so traumatic. I don’t even know how they could get the words out.”

                “Kerryn couldn’t help but to compare herself to their situations,” Tom said.

                “In what way?” Dr. Lewin questioned.

                “Just hearing them all talk about how they didn’t have that much of an issue jumping into a physical relationship with their current partner was daunting. There was one girl who’d been molested by her father and she went on to be a prostitute for a while! I don’t understand how they do the things they do and I’m here with the most loving and amazing husband anyone could ask for, yet the thought of having sex with him sends me into a fit of panic attacks!” I exclaimed, my chest heaving. “Why? Why do I have to be the fucked up one who can’t even let someone I love touch me?!”

                “Sweetheart,” Tom said gently, taking my hands in his while shushing me to attempt to calm me down. “You are not fucked up. Not in the least bit.”

                “Tom is right,” Dr. Lewin interjected. “There are a lot of women in the same situation as you. Not everyone deals with it the same way. Some have a hard time starting a physical relationship and others feel so worthless that they just don’t care anymore about their bodies. You do still care, otherwise you wouldn’t be where you are now. It’s a good thing that you care that much about yourself. Now we just have to work on having you let someone else care for it too.”

                  I took my hands out of Tom’s and moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around his middle and burying my face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

                  Tom sighed, gently rubbing my back. “This is not a situation where you need to apologize, love. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

                  “I know you feel like going to the center didn’t really help you, but in some small way, it did. You saw that there were others out there that went through the same thing you did and you saw that they overcame their fears of letting themselves be intimate with someone else. It is possible for you, Kerryn. You don’t have to be afraid of Tom,” Dr. Lewin said.

                  I pulled back and looked at her incredulously. “I’m _not_ afraid of Tom,” I replied indignantly before turning towards Tom. “You don’t think I’m afraid of you, do you?”

                  Tom bit his lip, as if he was trying to calculate exactly what to say without upsetting me. “I know you’re not really afraid of me, but I think a part of you might be just a little bit,” he hedged.

                  “No!” I exclaimed. “You need to stop thinking that.”

                  “If you’re not afraid of Tom, then what?” Dr. Lewin asked.

                  “I’m afraid of me!” I cried. “What happened on our honeymoon, my crazy reaction and locking myself in the bathroom, that wasn’t because I was afraid of Tom! It was all in my head. It had nothing to do with me being afraid of him.”

                  Tom stared hard at me. “You’re afraid that’s going to happen again? You’re not scared of being with me?”

                  I nodded ashamedly and looked down at my lap. “I couldn’t control it. I was back in that dark place again with no escape, just horrible memories of that night. I couldn’t get out and be in the present. I don’t want that to happen again.”

                  Tom blew out a harsh breath. “And here I was thinking this whole time that it was me,” he said.

                  “It could never be you,” I assured him. “You’re the only thing giving me what little sanity I have.”

                  “Well, this narrows things down for us,” said Dr. Lewin. “Like I said on your first visit, you’re suffering from PTSD and we need to get down to the root of what triggers your reaction. Once we’re there, we can figure out how to get you out of that dark place once you’re in it, and possibly even prevent you from getting their in the first place.”

                  “What do we need to do?” Tom asked. I could hear the desperation in his voice.

                  “Experiment,” she said simply. “Retrace your steps and find out from what point that Kerryn’s reaction started.”

                  “But it came on so sudden,” I said. “I didn’t even know it was happening until it did.”

                  “Take it slow. There must have been some sort of warning sign, but it’s possible neither of you recognized it since it had never happened before. Tom, pay attention to her body language, her breathing, and her facial expressions. Kerryn, if you start to feel yourself tensing or if you feel off at all, stop. There has to be something that you did together that made that reaction come out. Once we find that, we can move on to preventing it,” she explained.

                  “So we should try to have sex?” Tom asked, trying to get clarification.

                  “Just the steps you took leading up to it,” she replied. “I don’t want to tell you not to have sex, but maybe you shouldn’t, just in case she’s fine before and this reaction happens while you’re in the midst of it. I don’t want either one of you getting hurt.”

                  “Okay,” I agreed.

                  “You don’t have to do this before our next session. I know that your play opens this week and you’re going to be quite busy,” she said to Tom. “So you both can take your time with this. We’ll still have our weekly sessions if time permits and you can share your progress with me.”

                  Tom and I nodded in agreement and finished out our session. Now that we had gotten down to what we really needed to work on, I felt better, but also even more terrified. What if it happened again? I didn’t think I could handle my reaction more than once. What was supposed to be the most amazing night of my life had turned into a nightmare.

                  As we left Dr. Lewin’s office and headed back to our flat, I told Tom my fears and he shared them. “I’m scared too, sweetheart. I never want to see you like that again. I promise you though, we will be careful. I will do everything in my power to keep you from getting to that place again.”

                  I swallowed hard. “I can’t wait until this is all over. I just want to be with you,” I admitted, a blush heating my cheeks.

                  Tom chuckled. “You know I feel the same way, but patience darling. I don’t want to rush and have it backfire on us.”

                  “I know,” I sighed. “Soon.”

                  Tom kissed my hand and nodded in agreement. “Soon.”


End file.
